


I Don't Want To Die

by SirCakesALot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, BAMF!Stiles, Confused Derek, Distrust, M/M, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn Relationship, Stiles is keeping secrets, all that good shit, attempted suicide, oblivious everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:49:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirCakesALot/pseuds/SirCakesALot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is tired. Tired of trying, tired of existing. After Theo, Scott still won't let him back, Malia won't look at him. Falling deeper and deeper into himself, he sets out to kill himself. Only when he hits the bottom he realises he doesn't want to die. He doesn't.</p>
<p>Something changes that day. No longer is he the same weak human. Something is different and Scott is too oblivious to notice.</p>
<p>It is when Derek comes back does anyone notice something is wrong. It is when Derek tries to make amends that he notices Stiles is different. </p>
<p>Derek cannot look away. Stiles doesn't want to be seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Don't Want To Die

Everything I stood for, all that I desired, was gone. Despite my best efforts, I could never grasp onto the fleeting forms of my friends. My pack mates. Maybe it was for the best? I did want out constantly. I never wanted to be like this, metally ruined before I should have been. All what held me together was gone, all of it. 

 

With my curtains closed and lights off, I mused about being dead. It would be better if I was. Scott didn't trust me, not like he did before Theo. Scott. He was all I had, now I had nothing. Nothing that was true. Laying in my bed, unmoving, I truely felt like I could be dead. Slowly I curled my aching fingers into a fist, digging to find some semblance of anger, rage even. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. I swear that I care, I swear I do it is just hard. Hard to show that I give a fuck when I am drowning in unshed tears. 

 

Feeling my lungs cave in, I just wished they would stop working, stop me from going on. How I desperately wanted some illness to take me away, whisk me to a room where everyone I know pretends to care. Although I had seen so much fucked up shit, seen the impossible, fought against it even, I couldn't fight against the pit growing in my mind. I guess I had never been fine, always walking the fine line but the Nogitsune pushed me over but I stubbornly refused to show it. Then Theo showed up. He chinked my armour and tore my crutches from me. 

 

It was so obvious. I needed Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia and Liam. The weak human needed the supernatural to flounder above the surface desperately. But this weak human was tired, tired of trying so hard. Trying to be useful. Sleep always evaded me, so I researched. Hunger never found me, so I fed the werewolves. I was trying to be useful, but I couldn't have been too helpful considering Scott threw me out so easily. Even when it was proven that Theo was lying, manipulating truths to be sinister, Scott still had yet to acknowledge my presence. 

 

The shuffling downstairs eventually forced me from my bed. The sheriff, my dad, was back home and tension was high. Theo had wormed his way into my fathers head, spreading seeds of doubt, seeds I didn't have the energy to pull out. Right now I didn't want the world to see me, didn't want anyone to see me as I really am. Weak and falling. 

 

Gripping my sheets, I eventually found it in myself to stand. Forcing the wobble from my stance, I strode with false confidence to the mirror. Disgusted by what I saw, I repressed every notion to smash the mirror and instead experimented. What look should I have, how should my mouth curl, how should the corners of my eyes crinkle? Working through the self-loathing, I found the perfect balance of tired and snarky. My supposed normal look. Fixing my clothing, I left my bedroom. Forcing noise into each step, I winced from each reverberated bang I made. 

 

"Stiles, you're awake." Dad grumbled, still moving around the house. 

 

Working my way slowly to the kitchen, fear clawed at my skin. Fear and sadness. He still didn't trust me. When will he trust me again?

 

"Yup, can't let you fend for yourself in the kitchen." I mused weakly, missing the mark of humour entirely.

 

"I can fend for myself." He snapped and what little life I had in my muscles drained.

 

"Yeah, and that is why you are the sheriff." I smiled painfully, reeling from an unknown wave. "Um, I am going..."

 

He wasn't listening. The way he held himself told me so, even by the tight lipped look he worn screamed it. Shuffling past him, I pulled on my worn out sneakers, not caring. Leaving the house silently, I went straight to my Jeep. The feeling of plummeting struck me, piercing through my body. Jumping into my car, I jammed my keys into the ignition. I had lost it in myself to care whether or not I was being rough with Roscoe. Tearing out of the driveway and onto the road, I felt lonely.

 

Scott wasn't talking to me, Lydia was acting like she had before the whole supernatural bombsehell with me and well, Kira was smitten with Scott. Malia, I thought she would stay with me at least. Unfortunately I was mistaken. Instead she stuck to her alpha, leaving me entirely. Liam was a puppy, too scared to leave Scott's side. I was so alone. Even my father didn't want me in his presence. Wouldn't it be best if I just...died?

 

Gripping the steering wheel, my resolve was set. I was going to die. I was the infection, the disease that needs to be purged in order for the town to be healthy. Lydia probably wouldn't scream for my death, Scott probably wouldn’t even notice. 

 

Pulling off the road at the woods, I took a deep breath before leaving my Jeep. Leaving the keys in the ignition, I stood before the hulking forest. So much had happened in this place, so much shit that slowly broke me down. Fuck, why did it all have to happen to me? If I hadn't dragged Scott with me that night to find a dead body, none of this would have happened. Scott and I would be the same blissfully unaware losers trying to be people we are not. Oh how I want the back so desperately. Back to when Scott needed me alive. 

 

Right now I was a burden, the human who kills in a pack of wolves that don't. I was ruining everything Scott had built. Taking my first step into the thick of the woods, I felt my sense of purpose ignite. 

 

Continuing to walk without purpose, I was finally stuck on the how. How should I do it? I hadn't brought rope, so hanging was not optional. Starving didn't sound like fun either. The sound of rushing water startled me, and a plan formed.

 

Drowning. I know how it should feel. After Matt, I had researched all I could about drowning. It seemed better than slowly starving myself. Stumbling towards the water, I followed the gushing stream. Eventually it lead to a waterfall, one I was not aware Beacon hills had. Standing close to the edge, fear grabbed me. It was a long fall, the mist of the water distorting my vision. The bottom would be painful if impact didn't kill me. Would it even work, or would it just leave me paralyzed, doomed to slowly die washed up on the creek bank?

 

This was necessary though. If I don't die now, I will just continue to bring everyone down. I was a weak human, pitiful even. Eventually my demons pushed me over.

 

The sensation of plummeting was not foreign, I had felt it constantly. It lasted only a few moments before agony overtook me. Hitting the waters surface didn't kill me, but it broke something. Lots of things. Screaming, all I got was a lung full of water. Trying desperately to get air, stuggling to move my tormented limbs, I fought to survive. Life slowly began to sap from me as my useless body couldn’t move properly. 

 

No.

 

This cannot be happening. Dying seemed so easy but right now it was an effort. Why? Why was it slowly giving way to exhaustion first? More pain overcame me, reaching a new threshold I was not aware of. Scrunching my eyes closed, I couldn't struggle anymore though my body wanted to. Every aspect of me wanted to fight the inevitable. It occured to me finally. Relaxing my body, my eyes snapped open.

 

I don't want to die.

 

The feel of the water pulsating was the last sensation I felt. The life flowed from my body, drifting in the current of the river. I was finally dead.

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

I don't want to die.

 

Those words struck Derek from nowhere, startling him to look away from the grotesque scene. Braeden snapped at Derek, but he didn't hear a word. His instincts told him to run. Run to Beacon Hills, or run farther away. Gripping his jacket tightly, he decided he would follow his instincts. Derek was going back to Beacon Hills. If he could sense something foreboding this far away, it had to be bad. He had to warn Scott, help him even. 

 

Ignoring Braeden's protests, Derek jumped back in his car. Wasting no time arguing with her, he left, speeding back towards his home. Back to Beacon Hills ready to face whatever monster had decided not to die. He knew, he could sense danger. Derek just knew he had to warn Scott before it struck.


	2. Meeting Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is back home, and so is Derek. With raging emotions, Stiles meets the darkness that brought him back whilst Derek finds out what has happened to the pack.

I woke on the ground, cold and hungry. Stretching, my muscles protested but I was able to ignore it. It was when I opened my eyes that I leapt to my feet. The river ran calmly beside me, woods surrounding my panicking form. Trying desperately to remember why I was here and counting my fleeting breath, an impending panic attack loomed over me. Forcing memories to come forward, I recoiled when they did. I leapt and...oh god, I should be dead. I should be bloated, insides burst. 

 

I don't want to die.

 

That is right. I thought that, but thinking never becomes reality, right? Scrambling backwards, away from the river I should be dead in, my back hit a tree. Turning around, I fled.

 

Running, I tried to find a logical explanation. Maybe I did die and this is some kind of crappy limbo where I will forever be hungry. Or hell considering that if I was dead, there should be curly fries. 

 

My feet barely touched the ground as I ran. Damp clothing meant I had only recently gotten out if the river, but since I had no idea how long I was in the water, I had no idea how much time had passed. Was it long enough for someone to notice me missing, long enough for someone to care? I just want to get home and try to deduce what that hell had happened. My stomach growled as I ran and I almost laughed. After I eat then. 

 

Time seemed to move off key. No matter how hard I tried, I could not distinguish it. Did I leave the river five minutes ago, or ten? Maybe I had only left it thirty seconds ago? I couldn't tell. Although I was running, I did not seem tired. No form of exhaustion was present despite the fact I died and somehow came back to life. 

 

I was confused when I burst onto the road. The journey to the river had taken a long time, hours even, yet I felt as though I had barely left there. Like only a minute had passed. Backing off the road, I looked around desperately trying to find my Jeep. My usual bad luck prevailed and the blue vehicle was no where to be seen. Sighing, I knew I had to keep walking and eventually hitch hike. 

 

Casting my eyes down in disdain, I leapt. Seeing my arms, a surreal feeling pulsated in my chest. No no no, these are not tattoos. I refuse. They cannot be real. 

 

Delicate lines wrapped around my arms, a single strand of black ink feathering off. It seemed pointless, like a waste of money and ink. Lifting up my shirt, the line was also wrapped around my stomach. The line suddenly moved, and I dropped my shirt, heart pounding. Did it really just...move? Looking ay my arms, the lines seemed permanently set, but I did not trust my eyes. 

 

The sound of a car snapped me from the thoughts of my new markings and onto the task ahead. Holding out my arm, I extended my thumb. The faded car pulled up beside me, grinding to a halt. Reminding myself that not everyone is sinister and out to kill me, I forced a smile onto my face. The window slowly rolled down and an older woman stared at me. 

 

"Um, can I get a lift with you into Beacon Hills. I kinda got lost in the woods." I told her, hoping she would agree.

 

"Sure sweetie, climb in." She smiled sweetly and I obeyed without so much as a squeak.

 

Once seated, she stared at me. Was she going to comment on my ragged look, or the pointless lines dancing along my skin? Apparently there was a third option where she just smiled and drove. What? Okay then. The lack of conversation gave me time to think. If I asked the date and time, she would grow suspicious, so that finding will have to wait. If I had been gone a while, how would I explain it? My stomach sunk as loneliness crept back in. Would I even have to lie about it? Gripping my sides to hold myself together, I noticed the lines on my arms moving, spiraling. 

 

Great, now I had magic ink. Fuck my life. Looking out the window, I felt disorientated. These woods didn't look the same. It was a strange sensation, I had spent my whole life thinking every forest looked the same but right now I knew this was not Beacon Hills. It couldn't possibly be. Beacon Hills had a different feel entirely. 

 

"How far away are we from Beacon Hills?" I asked and the lady laughed.

 

"You must be a poorly planned runaway." She chuckled and my veins turned to ice.

 

Calling me a runaway, does that mean, Beacon Hills is far away? She must have caught my panicked expression and all happiness drained from her face.

 

"It is six hours away kid." She sighed and my heart began to pound.

 

"W-what? That...how?" I cracked, losing my composure.

 

Trembling violently the lady seemed startled.

 

"You are from that town aren't you?"

 

"Yes." I croaked back, too scared to care.

 

"Sweetie, I will drive you home. How did you get this far walking?"

 

"I didn't walk." I told her, my eyes glazing over.

 

I drowned. My lifeless body was dragged to that point before I somehow came back. Warmth grew in my chest painfully, so I doubled over. How did I come back? For how long was I gone? Did anyone back home care? 

 

The lady stayed silent as I fell apart in the passenger seat. 

 

I fell apart until there was nothing left for the six hour drive.

 

 

 

She stopped at the servo, gesturing for me to leave. Dragging myself from the car, my legs wobbled awkwardly and I caught myself on the car.

 

"I will pay you back for all this." I gasped, my throat sore from holding back sobs.

 

"It is fine son. Just go home and let your parents know you are alright." She told me and I shook my head.

 

"I will give you my number. If you ever need anything, call me." I told her, fumbling around.

 

"Just leavr it sweetie. Call it my good deed for the month." She smiled and winked and my heart melted a bit.

 

Someone actually did something nice for me without expecting anything in return. This was new, foreign. Nodding, I wandered away. Strangers can actually help, not just maim. The servo was close to my house, so I didn't have to walk far though it felt good. Cramped in that car was not pleasant, but I would have hated walking for that long. 

 

Eventually I made it back to my house, my dads cruiser outside. Frowning, a blossom of hope blossomed in my chest. Maybe he did notice? Maybe now we could reconcile and be close once more? Walking up to the front door, it swung open. Scott was there, eyes wide.

 

"Stiles, where the hell have you been? I called you like, a hundred times." Scott accused and pain struck me.

 

He didn’t care, but he noticed I was missing.

 

"Um, well..."

 

"Your dad said you where upstairs in your room but you weren't!"

 

They didn't notice. Maybe I wasn't gone for long? That was a lie. I was just in a car for six hours, how long did it take for me to drift to that point. They wouldn't even have known I was dead as this point. Would they have even noticed? 

 

Clenching my fist, my thin tattoos crept to the tensed limb. I was angry, but at myself. How could I have let myself be thought so little of? Was I really just a loser, a loner? Was I really just that coward who pretends to be tough?  

 

"Sorry, I lost my phone." I mumbled, pushing past Scott to get inside my house. 

 

"Sorry. You're sorry, again. Jeez Stiles, think about how you affect others." Scott lectured, stabbing at my weak defences. 

 

I really am a loser. 

 

"I am sorry okay. How many times do I have to apologize!" I snapped, spinning in full fury. "Now what the hell do you want from me!" 

 

Scott, the almighty true alpha, winced. It didn't feel nice, but I was hurt too. I was hurting, but I was supposed to care more about others. What about me? Why am I supposed to not give a shit about myself!

 

"Derek is back." Scott mumbled and my rage slowly diminished.

 

"He is?" I asked, keeping my voice even.

 

"Yeah. He said he sensed something massive come to Beacon Hills. Derek wanted to warn us all. I came to warn you, you know, friends warn each other about stuff." Scott snarled, implying about my sudden disappearance.

 

"When? I mean, when did he feel this thing?" I asked ungracefully.

 

"Saturday. He only just arrived today, so who knows what kind of damage it has already caused..." Scott trailed on.

 

Wait, Saturday? That was when...when I took the plunge. That was when I refused to die. And what does Scott mean that it could have caused major damage. It should only be Sunday, Monday at worst.

 

"What day is it?" I asked, cutting Scott off.

 

"Thursday, why?"

 

I was gone for almost a week and they didn't notice. I was missing, and not a single person knew or cared. Rage burnt deep inside, and I felt ready to explode.

 

"Get...the...fuck...out." I snarled, trying to focus on my breathing before I did sonething I regretted.

 

"What, why? I need you to research..."

 

"Get the fuck out!" I screamed as the lights exploded. 

 

Scott whimpered, running from my house as I seethed with unbridled anger. Loathing. I was gone a week and they only noticed when they wanted me to do them research. Why should I do anything for them? Why? Why did I come back!

 

How did I come back?

 

Creeping past my shellshocked father, I rolled through ideas but I was always stuck on one point. Only good guys come back. It was insanely clear that I was hardly good. Blood stained my hands and I secretly relished in the feeling. That is not what a good person does nor how a good person behaves. Peter had manipulated a Banshee, but I awoke alone. 

 

Closing my bedroom door, I was plunged into the false memory of death. Darkness closed in, though this time it seemed solid. Echoed laughter reverberated in my ears and I knew I was not alone.

 

"Stiles." A feminine voice cooed, coming from somewhere yet no where. "Stiles."

 

Shivering, I tried to back out of my room. Trying the handle, I found that my door was locked. My voice wouldn't work, my throat constricting painfully, almost as if someone had wrapped a hand around it.

 

"I bet you are full of questions, full of chaos." The voice whispered from a place no one stood. "Why am I alive? Who saved me? Why save me?"

 

Her voice was taunting. She was mocking me. Why? Why does everyone mock me?

 

"I saved you Stiles. Only a soul tainted by chaos can I touch. Only a being ready for distruction can I mend. Stiles, I gift you power." Laughter followed, the shadows growing and growling.

 

Power? My palms began to sweat from such a notion. I have power?

 

"You are so full of strife, it was divine finding you. Now go prove your worth. Show those who you care about..." The voice was suffocating, tearing my skull apart yet I wanted more, "that you are no longer human."

 

The lights flickered on, showing my room a mess. Papers had flown from my desk, posters torn down. It was almost like a werewolf had lost control in the confines of my room. Glancing at my bed however, I was captivated by such a small object. Nestled in my pillow was a single, golden apple gleaming under my light. Reaching for it with a shaking hand, a loud bang startled me. Glaring in the direction of the offending noise, my board stood at attention. Scrawled all over my board were symbols I did not know, nothing I recognized. It was written in haste, demanding translation, but what language was it?

 

Glancing at the apple, I knew it was important. My instincts told me so. But what am I to do with it?

 

Maybe the board has the answers, I just need to figure it out. The thing that was in my room was probably what Derek had come to warn us about, yet she just left me an apple. I had to figure this out. Not for Scott, but for me. Then I can finally prove my worth.

 

The ladies words were stuck in my mind, repeating the part when she claimed I was no longer human.

 

That darkness brought me back, and I intend to find out why.

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Derek waited in his loft for Scott to return, Stiles in tow when a sense of dread washed over him. Something was here, something full of malice. He didn’t know what, but he was intent of finding out. Before Derek could dwell on the unknown, the doors slide open with a lonely, dejected Scott standing there.

 

"Where is Stiles?" Derek asked, needing Stiles's mind to figure out just what had arrived.

 

"He told me to fuck off." Scott whimpered and Derek hid a snigger.

 

"Why would he say that to you?" Derek asked, curious by Stiles strange behaviour.

 

"Ever since he killed Donovan he has been different."

 

"Wait, Stiles killed someone." Derek demanded, anger rising.

 

He had to try to keep his rage at bay. Derek couldn’t risk Scott knowing he was an alpha again. Alpha's never get along.

 

"Yeah. We are all over it, Theo was a liar." Scott said another thing Derek couldn’t understand.

 

"How else has he been different?"

 

"Well, to tell you the truth, I haven't really spoken to him in a month." Scott admitted and Derek clenched his fist.

 

"Stiles is human Scott. You need to protect him, he is pack!" Derek shouted, barely containing himself.

 

Scott went with a different option. His eyes shone a brilliant red as he stood defiantly.

 

"Stiles is not pack." Scott spat and Derek fell back.

 

What, he thought. Just what exactly had changed in Beacon Hills. Derek grew up here, but this town was turning into a beast so foreign and untamable, he contemplated whether or not he had run in the right direction.


	3. Let Me Show You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles realises what he has. Something evil is sitting on his bed, he just needs to know why he has it.
> 
> He encounters Derek and decided to bring him along for the ride.

Tentatively sitting at the dining room table, once again the silence was smothering me. Sleep had not found me last night, so instead I tried to understand just what had been inside my room. Morning came unwelcomed, as I now had to explain myself. Explain why I missing, why I suddenly had moving tattoos and why I yelled at Scott with such aggression. Dad sat across from me, chewing slowly. It scared me how he didn’t complain about the rabbit food, how he didn’t mock my obsession with keeping him healthy. 

 

"Son, look..." He began and I cut him off.

 

"You don't even care. Not really." I snapped, stabbing my vegetable filled omelet.

 

"What? What is this about?" He demanded and I fought tooth and nail against rolling my eyes. 

 

"Ever since you found out about Donovan, you..." my voice cracked, "you haven't looked at me the same. You don't have to pretend, I understand."

 

"I was going to ask why you yelled at Scott. You two were close. Close enough to work through your Donovan related issues." Dad mumbled and I broke down slightly.

 

"Did you notice that I was gone?" I asked, and he froze.

 

"You were just in your room when I came home, or out helping the werewolves do werewolf stuff." He tried to convince hinself and a smirk formed on my lips.

 

"Actually, I was lost in the woods for six days you know. Oh wait, you didn't. No one did." Venom dripped from my words, striking the sheriff.

 

"What? No, no you weren't. I would have noticed."

 

"I was dad. I fucking jumped..." I broke off my sentence, gripping my hair in frustration, breakfast forgotten, "I had to be driven back by a stranger. A stranger dad! You...no one knew I was gone. Not a single person. Do you know what that feels like? To be so unwanted that no one cares that you are missing!" 

 

Tears rolled down my face and I could feel my tattoos curling under my skin, crawling up my neck. The sheriff stood awkwardly before approaching me. He wrapped his arms around me in a casual embrace. Nuzzling into his shirt, I tried to shut down each sob without any positive results. 

 

"Aren’t you going to ask?" I said, my face still burrowed into his chest.

 

"Ask about what? Why you decided to get lost?" He asked, a slightly bemused tone taking over each word like it was normal for me to be completely lost.

 

"The markings." I stated and dad tensed.

 

"What markings? Did you safe ward the house or some freaky magic stuff?" 

 

Pulling away, I stared in shock. Could he not see the lines gliding along my skin? Was he that intent on not looking at me? Suddenly I felt the urge to do something, anything, so I spoke.

 

"You would have preferred Scott as a son, wouldn't you? He wouldn't have killed Donovan, in fact, I believe he wouldn't care if you died dad." I spewed those words out, but I didn't stop. "Scott wouldn't care if either of us died because we are just weak humans. Maybe we shoukd stop fighting back in self defense and let them kill us first!"

 

Conflicting emotions crossed my fathers face and I loved it. I caused that reaction. Despite that I was human, I could still control someones feelings, the way they expressed themselves. It was empowering. Was this how the Nogitsune felt when he created chaos inside my body.

 

Only a soul tainted by chaos can I touch.

 

Her words resonated from within, humming in my tattoos. Was it because of the Nogitsune's power that she could drag me back? Who was she?

 

"Stiles!" Dad yelled, slamming his fists on the table. "You are brilliant, yes, but sometimes you look at things fron the wrong angle..."

 

"The wrong angle..." I said calmly, something clicking. "I was looking from the wrong angle!"

 

Instead of just trying to figure out the board to in turn find out who was in my room, I could use the apple to do so. What myths contain golden apples? Pushing away from the table, I ran to the stairway. Trpping over myself, I slammed my shins into the stairs, sending flares of sharp pain. Gritting my teeth, I tried to think, tried to tame my rampaging thoughts.

 

Rampage.

 

The battle of Troy. 

 

It had to be. I had the fucking Golden Apple of Discord on my bed. Wait, so was I saved by an original Greek Goddess? No. I couldn’t have been. Werewolves don't care about me, so why would a Goddess even know I existed. Scrambling up the stairs, I had some plan formed though.

 

The scrawl on my board had to be ancient Greek. Time to learn a language. Or I could just translate it I guess. Google is helpful, but unreliable when it comes to its translator. But if I was right, and this was the apple that started the battle of Troy, a story known for bloodshed, I could not study it in my bedroom. To many times had obnoxious werewolves come in at all hours demanding more research. Keeping such a beautiful artifact within the grasp of so many untrustworthy pack mates was not wise. Was I still considered pack? Maybe I wasn't? Then again, power had gone to Scott's head and now he expects everyone to bend to his whim. Not anymore. I am done with Scott.

 

Once in my room, I quickly grabbed the apple, feeling a burst of ecstasy quickly pounded at my nerves. Taking a quick photo of the board on my phone, I rushed back downstairs. When out and away from prying eyes, I could research what exactly had been left on my board. I could find a way to use the apparent powers I now possessed to make Scott regret treating me like shit, make Malia upset that she left me and make Lydia wish she had appreciated me. Secretly, I also wished it would make Derek come back and recognize me.

 

Scott said that Derek was back, but once again he was too focused on Scott to even notice my existence when he wasn’t throwing me against walls. Derek would have noticed weeks ago if Scott even contemplated jumping, but then again, why would Scott? Rage ate away at me as I thought of Scott, so I went back to my plan.

 

Leaving the house, muscle memory flung me in the direction of Roscoe. My car. The car I currently had no idea of its whereabouts. Shit. Quess I have to walk to a quiet area. Libraries where off limits, too many reminders of...it. The moment that cut my safety net. A café maybe? Too much caffeine would hinder my research, or it could aid it. There would be centuries of tales to sift through, I can not afford to stay stuck on a single one.

 

I need caffeine.

 

The only flaw was that I needed to walk. Catastrophes involving the supernatural always start out small, then expand. This apple should not cause discord in a heavily populated café, right? I don't want the humans to be hurt, I don't want humans to have to be protected by Scott and his self-righteous ignorance. Feeling my tattoo swirl to my fists, I knew they agreed with me. I only want to make the pack suffer. They have called me weak, cast me aside and ignored me when I have been beaten an inch from my life. This pack of so called friends has to go. 

 

I had barely started walking when a familiar black Camero pulled up beside me. It was only time when Derek would check up on me. To him I was weak, the biggest burden on his heavy shoulders. I hate the feeling of being inferior and Derek brings it out in me. No matter how many times I saved his life, he still never so much as glanced my way. Instead he thanked Scott. Scott! Why couldn't Derek care for me? 

 

The heavily tinted window slowly rolled down and all I saw was pity. Of course he would pity me! Gripping the apple tightly, I forced a smile on my face.

 

"Hey Derek."

 

"I heard about it Stiles." Derek said, the pity intensifying.

 

Wait? Did he hear about my trip to the waterfall? How? How does Derek know I tried to kill myself?

 

"Huh?" I chocked out, shocked by my own emotional state. 

 

"I understand it can be traumatic to be kicked out of a wolf pack." Derek looked solemn and my sadness wavered.

 

"I didn't do it because of..."

 

"Believe it or not, I can sympathize. I was also removed from Scott's pack."

 

Oh. He is only concerned by the fact that I was kicked out of Scott's pack. So I had been removed. Explains a lot really. 

 

"Derek, I honestly don't care that I was removed from the picture." I told him, shrugging and he leaned back in his seat slightly confused.

 

I did care yesterday...I mean on Saturday, but I couldn't bring myself to care now. Losing my best friend was not as terrifying as losing my life. Despite the fact that I am here, I swear I died. That was something I couldn't tell Derek. I couldn’t.

 

"Stiles, you are not lying." Derek stated.

 

"No shit. I honestly do not care anymore. Scott is an asshole wrecking your families territory." I snapped, not knowing where I pulled it from.

 

Derek actually sighed and looked upset. Morphing into utter sadness, I actually felt bad. 

 

"He is. But even if I evolved, I cannot take down an entire pack. Scott is a true Alpha, that has to stand for something." Derek explained and my heart almost skipped a beat in excitement.

 

"Derek, I can help. I can! We can...show Scott that...this land needs stronger protectors." I lied. I didn't care about the land nor was I just going to 'show him'. No. I was going to tear Scott apart whether it is physically or mentally. Then he can know how I have felt since the night he was bitten.

 

Inferior.

 

"How Stiles? Frankly speaking, we have no hope." Derek sighed and I smiled.

 

Leaning into his car, I whispered, "Take me somewhere with less people and I will explain."

 

Derek nodded, trying to understand what I was going on about. Standing straight, I opened the door. Winking at him, I climbed inside. As soon as I closed the door, Derek drove. 

 

Fidgeting with the apple, I could feel Derek glance at me. Derek was actually noticing me, although it was with pity. 

 

"Is the old meat works fine?" Derek asked and I smiled.

 

"Perfect."

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

 

Derek drove, his mind racing. He could tell something was different with Stiles, the boy fidgeting beside him, but he blamed it on depression. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, cursing Scott. Scott let Stiles become like this. Taking a deep breath to understand Stiles emotions, he was hit with....satisfaction, anger and a lingering sense of sadness. Derek couldn’t understand all these emotions mingling on one person, all he knew was that Stiles was going through something. 

 

Taking a whiff of his scent, a smell that should be familiar, he swerved. Derek broke out into cold sweat as he frantically looked at Stiles.

 

"What?" Stiles asked and Derek looked away.

 

He could sense no malice coming from this boy, but his scent was foreign. Derek had no choice but to drive to the meat works in order to find out what had changed. If this wasn't Stiles, Derek would slaughter them though. The meat works seemed appropriate. 

 

Derek stopped breathing through his nose in order to no longer smell Stiles new noxious scent. A scent that screamed something was wrong.

 

It smelt like Stiles was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live in a rural area. Shitty service and lots to do. So if I update irregularly, blame it on that. I write at night cause why not.


	4. I Tried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles confronts old enemies

Trapped in a car with the man who stole my heart was unbearable. Staring at Derek, I was reminded of past feelings.

 

A broken heart changed my perspective. I thought I could work through any pain, but I was wrong. This town, the town once so full of my dreams was depleted, greying with each passing moment. People grew shallow, morphing into what they had always been. A broken heart made me tired. Tired of this place, tired of all it used to offer. My heart ached from a dull pain while my mind tore itself apart. I had to leave the pain. The greying landscape stirred awake nothing, only the chasms of loneliness. I shouldn't have fallen for Derek. It left me vulnerable. My defences were down when Scott left me, making the pain worse. 

 

Thoughts of our future used to give me agony. I had once pictured the perfect future with Derek. A future spent hand in hand, stealing kisses whenever we could. Picturesque landscapes leading to our little house on a hill, children of our own running rampant. That dream had caught fire. The beautiful house was burnt leaving only foundations. I naively thought you could love me back. Me. I had too much blood on my hands, the Nogitsune had left an impact on everyone.

 

I know better now. I had to keep my hopes small. It hurt too much to have them torn down, but I couldn't help it. I still want it all. I want the hidden cabin, picture frames lacing the walls, a fire place to keep us warm, a candle lit bedroom. No matter how hard I tried not to fall back to the memory of a dream, it still haunted my heartbroken slumber.

 

It was all my mistake.

 

Our lives didn't work toegther. We couldn't bend to each other, we couldn't sort through our differences. But oh how I still want it all. I still want secret meetings, the picnics entirely under moonlight, the concealed laughter, the sheer joy. Now all I experience are long nights and tear stained cheeks as I know you share these moments with another. As you laugh with another, hold hands with another.

 

While my plans burned, yours flourished.

 

Not matter how hard I tried, I wasn't over you. I had to give myself time. I needed to replace everything I had given away. Derek had left me and I fell into Theo's clutches. I never had to confidence to tell Derek, and then he left. Now he is back, sitting next to me, and all I feel if fear.

 

How come you can talk so easily?

 

Everything was shattering and it was my fault. I shouldn't have fallen for you. Sure I still smiled, but I only smiled reminiscing what was. I only smiled when trapped in the faded memory. A memory of my ignorance, before the supernatural, before I was tormented. I was no longer the same Stiles you knew. We were two broken souls desperately trying to mend ourselves using others. I guess you suceeded.

 

You still haven't noticed that I am falling apart. I guess I always was. You left because I was flawed, imperfect. Despite my longing for a future together, I accept you have moved on. Even though it kills me to say it now, I will get over you. I was a fool for falling in love anyway.

 

Pulling up outside the hulking meat works, a sense of dread washed over me. Looking at Derek, doubt ate away at me. What if he didn't accept me? What if he...what if he told me the truth? In this state, this messed up and confused state, I won't be able to handle it. If I heard Derek utter a word of hatred, a word of disappointment, I will crumble. 

 

Slowly dragging my limbs from the vehicle, all earlier confidence had faded. I felt weak. Derek looked at me with confusion and I slipped in my mind a little more. I wanted to smile at him effortlessly, to show hin that everything is okay but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. It was times like this that I wished desperately that I could go back in time. Back to when it didn't take everything in me to smile. When it didn't hurt thinking about my friends. Where they even my friends?

 

A hand placed itself on the small of my back, startling me from all thoughts. Flinching from the touch, I caught Derek's distraught look before he guarded himself off. 

 

"Lets go inside." I mumbled, not knowing how to explain anything.

 

Derek came here to help Scott, to protect him. Not for me. What did Scott say about that? Something big came to Beacon Hills. Sonething showed up on Saturday...I died on Saturday. My heart began to pound and I clutched the apple. What if...what if I was what he was hunting? 

 

"Are you okay?" Derek asked, leaning close but not touching me.

 

Nodding, I headed towards the entrance of the meat works. Pushing open the door, I strode in, not really knowing what to do. Derek followed, and perked up.

 

"I smell something." He announced and walked off. 

 

Trailing close behind, I looked around. This derelict building had been deserted for years and many had found use for it. Bottles littered the floor, some smashed with pieces strewn everywhere. The walls were tagged and the whole building reeked. What could Derek possibly smell in here? Drugs? Shit, I forgot my Adderall this morning. 

 

Derek walked into a room and found a stairway to a lower level. My past experience with basements had not always been so good, so it was natural for my anxiety to build up. Gripping the apple tightly, I descended with Derek. The air grew colder as we reached a steel door. Great, the freezer. Watching Derek open the door, I began to shiver with anticipation, something I didn't understand. What exactly was I expecting?

 

My tattoos began to writhe, aching under my skin. Looking into the freezer, I didn’t leap back in disgust at what I saw. Dead bodies hung from hooks, limbs frozen stiff. Faces frozen in agony stared at me, yet I felt nothing. No disgust, no sympathy, just the thought that I should.

 

"Stiles, this is dangerous." Derek warned and I found myself barking a dry laugh.

 

"And? I am going in there with you." And I pushed past him.

 

Once in the freezer, I noticed how large the room was and the fact that there was a door over the other side. What I wanted was on the other side, my tattoos were pulling me towards it. Complying with their demands, I started running. Ignoring Derek, I continued to move, weaving through the dead. 

 

Finally reaching the door, I flung it open. Looking back, I saw Derek slowly stalking through the bodies. The werewolf was distracted. Turning towards the opening, I walked through. Darkness swallowed me instantly.

 

Why was this room so dark? Frantically searching the walls for a switch, I found it quickly. Lights flickered on and I was greeted by three sets of eyes. Three very pissed off sets of eyes. Walking forward slowly, my hip hit a bench corner rather painfully. Refusing to show pain, I calmly placed down my apple. One of the people made a gurgled snarl, revealing a mouth of sharp teeth and anger flooded me.

 

Fucking Wendigo's. I hate them. Instead of calling for Derek to help me, I stood my ground. Bracing myself, the tattoos seemed to flow to my fists. All three charged and I reacted. Dodging two, my fist connected with the third. His face caved in around my fist, a satisfying crunch resounding around the room. Pulling my hand away, I stared down the other two.

 

"I really hate Wendigo's" I said to myself as I stepped forward.

 

One of them roared, running straight at me. I was not skilled at fighting, and all I had was my new found brute force so I used it. Hitting the creature in the stomach, I was surprised it could even cough up blood. Some part of me loved the blood, the way it warmly hit my clothes and skin in an artistic pattern. The way the body would twitch uncontrollably even after I removed the head. 

 

I killed all three of them. Satisfaction rushed through me. It was different from when the Nogitsune killed. This time it was all me. It was not self-defence, and it was up close. I had changed.

 

Derek burst in, and took in the sight of me. I knew I was covered in gore. Something in me had snapped, causing me to tear all three apart. Rejoicing in the havoc, I tried not to smile at Derek. 

 

"What the fuck Stiles!" Derek shouted, his eyes flashing as a warning.

 

"This is what I wanted to explain." I told him, delirious from the rush.

 

"This? Your new found desire for bloodshed!" Derek demanded, stepping closer to me. "Are you really Stiles Stilinski?"

 

"Yes I am. Derek, I have a confession." I told me, locking eyes. "I...I have changed."

 

"I can see that." He muttered and I could sense rejection.

 

"You don't even care. No one does I guess." I sighed, dropping to my knees as the realisation of what I had done set in. "I...I killed again Derek."

 

My voice broke. The feeling on my face was not unknown. Was it sweat or was it tears? I cannot tell anymore. 

 

"Stiles, explain yourself." 

 

"I wanted to kill myself Derek. I...I should be dead." 

 

Derek reeled back, stumbling yet looking like he was holding a thought back. I fell back into myself, lost in my own mind.

 

"I just wanted it to all end. The distrust, the anger. Everything would be better if I died. The infection would be gone and then everyone could be happy so I went to the woods. I jumped Derek. I know I was dying. I know I was!" I screamed at him, wanting someone to listen. "But I don't want to die. I don't!"

 

"When? When did you...die? I mean, not die?" He asked and I smiled ruefully.

 

"Saturday. I just wish I had succeeded." I told him, an ache in my voice.

 

Everything will be rightened with my demise. Expecting Derek to be mad or disgusted with me, I closed my eyes. It was a better way to face the coming onslaught. Instead I felt arms wrap around me, pulling me close. Heat blossomed in my chest, my tattoos bursting with life. Opening my eyes, all I could see was Derek's shoulder. It was real. Derek was hugging me. He was showing affection. 

 

A sob hiccuped in my throat.

 

"Stiles, I don't know what changed you to be like this. I don't care. This is Scott's fault. No, it is the whole packs. You are right, they are ruining my territory." 

 

Nodding, I slowly calmed down.

 

"We need to tear them apart, let them feel our pain." I told Derek and he stiffened. "Even if you don’t help me, I will do it."

 

"I will help you." After he said that, he stood, lifting me up with him. 

 

Derek went to leave but I panicked.

 

"Stop stop stop. I cannot leave it!" I shouted, wriggled free from his arms. 

 

Grabbing the apple, I felt at peace. Rushing back to Derek's side, I saw confusion once again. He didn’t question my actions, and instead just stood close to my side. We were not touching, but I could feel his heat. Feelings long since buried tried to re-surface. Reminding myself he was with Braeden did nothing but only fuel jealousy. 

 

I was too demented for love. Walking out of the meat works in silence, I questioned my decision to have even told Derek. I questioned everything. Looking at my blood stained clothes, Derek seemed to know what I wanted.

 

"We can stop by my loft."

 

Nodding, I wrapped my arms around myself. Looking at Derek, I felt bitter. I want to lead you on, make you fall in love then just leave. I want to hurt you aswell, but I know I never could. Holding in all my emotions, I felt petty. I was already dragging Derek down with me. Already I was ruining his chances of finally getting a pack. All because pain finally changed me. 

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Driving, Derek looked over at Stiles. The boy played with the apple, yet never once tried to bite it. Stiles had changed, Derek could see this. Another thing Derek knew was Stiles was not okay. He had tried to kill himself, or so he thought. Derek could smell it clearer than any scent before. Stiles succeeded. He was dead, yet here he sat across from.

 

Peter needed to manipulate a Banshee to be brought back, yet Stiles seemed like he did not. Stiles was not even aware. Anger pumped through Derek, almost causing him to shift.

 

It was all Scott's fault. Derek thought that maybe if he had noticed, Stiles would not smell like decay, but he knew it was impossible. He was, however, stuck on one question. Derek knew he was not the brains, yet determination grew. He had resolved to figure out just what powerful entity had brought Stiles back and he intended on finding a way to keep him.

 

Derek was not ready to lose this boy, the human who had seen to much. Stiles was the only one who accepted Derek and treated the wolf like a human. He just had to solve this riddle.

 

He glanced at the bloodstained boy and he felt a pull in his heart which left him with the finally question.

 

Why could Derek sense that Stiles didn't want to die?


	5. Free Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to Derek, tells him his plan which Derek rejects. He rejects it until he speaks with Scott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know no one cares, but I just enrolled to University. Fuck yeah!   
> I like posting shit, but if it isn't cohesive, it is because I write this late at night. A weird way to sleep, and I post the day after. So yeah. Shit.

What does it feel like to hate yourself? I thought I knew. I did know. As cliche as it sounds, the only way to describe the turmoil of emotions I kept deep inside, it was like a seething fire. It burnt my insides, raged on with anger directed only at me. And I am sure I still hate myself, but the feeling has changed. It feels more like a tugging of self-doubt that aches where it lingers. It nags at my heart, constricting each beat and tainting my bloodstream. This doubtful hate hurts more than the fire. It antagonizes my mind, plays with the tremours in my hands.

 

I feel all this yet I still smile. I smile broadly until my cheeks hurt and laugh until my lungs are ragged. Why?

 

Because everybody lies. That is why I found myself admist my greatest lie. The lie of my own happiness.

 

Inside Derek's loft, I placed the apple down before strolling towards a place to curl up. It was only midday, but the day had seemed too long. When Derek placed his hand on my arm to guide me to his room, I felt my markings explode like fireworks to his touch. Repressing my feelings, I let him guide me. My body was making it harder to reject him. Entering his sparce bedroom, I let my eyes wander. Never before had he allowed me this far into his domain. Figures. 

 

Derek threw a shirt at me, which I surprisingly caught with ease. Peeling off my own shirt, Derek found a pair of track suit pants and dropped them on his bed. Holding my ruined shirt, I just looked at Derek. 

 

"Where should I put this?" I asked, Derek finally looking at me. 

 

Darting my own eyes away, I did not want to see his reaction to my pale body. Times like this I wished I could dissappear. Once again I felt inferior to werewolves. Why was I so...so human? 

 

"Are you okay?" Derek asked and I forced a smile.

 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I lied, pulling his shirt on.

 

My body instantly reacted to his scent. My skin began to tingle, my stomach fluttered. This was bad. 

 

"You just told me you jumped and...never mind." Derek huffed, grabbing himself a change of clothes and leaving the room. 

 

Once the door shut, I instantly removed my pants. Blood had seeped into the stitching of denim, leaving me uncomfortable. Walking over to the trackies waiting for me, jealousy stabbed at me.

 

How many times had Braeden walked the this very bed with Derek waiting? How many times had she...

 

Tears stung in my eyes. I was acting like a melodramatic child, agonizing myself over a stupid crush. Weak. Pitiful. Why do I attempt to fall in love, no body likes the real Stiles. If I gave in to my emotions, I would only end up aone again. It was the same repetitive cycle. I like you, I love you, I hate you. Why did I even try? Why did I set myself up for the fall? It is always the same thing. With shaky hands, I gripped my hair and pulled as the tears stream down my face. My silent screams tore at my weak throat, a sensation I knew too well. Rocking back and forth, I struggled to breath between the screams. 

 

Scott left me.

 

My chest heaved painfully.

 

Malia dumped me.

 

Tears tore apart my flesh.

 

My father doesn't trust me.

 

I stopped breathing. 

 

Panic loomed over me, finally beginning to smother me. Crouching down, I couldn't get enough air into my lungs, my vision began to fade. Scott was gone. My best friend kicked me out of the pack all because I killed someone. Oh god, I killed someone. I took more lives. 

 

Suddenly Derek was infront of me. I hadn't even noticed the door open, much less him entering. 

 

"Stiles! Stiles, calm down!" Derek yelled, shaking me. He was lost to his own panic, unable to drag me out from my own. 

 

Comfort. He was trying to offer me comfort. Derek pulled me into his arms and I continued to cry. Weak. Right now I didn't care how disgraceful my actions were, I just wanted Derek to hold me together while I shattered. I wanted this. 

 

"I...I am not just a man with broken dreams..." I sniffled, still unaware of what I wanted to explain, "it is just so tiring. Life gets harder when you love nothing I guess."

 

Derek tensed as I withdrew from my short attack. Curling into myself from fear, Derek only held me closer. 

 

"I am going to slaughter Scott." Derek hissed, his claws coming out due to his anger.

 

"That is an activity that requires pants." I mumbled, realising I had yet to out on Derek's trackies.

 

I was in Derek's arms, wearing only his shirt and underwear. Unfortunately I had also been crying and was too shaken to take full advantage of the situation. Not that I could. I had just proven to Derek just how weak I was. 

 

But I could still take on the entire pack. And now I had an evolved wolf on my side. 

 

This is more than just petty revenge. It is something to ease mt troubled mind, to give me peace at night.I was suffering because Scotr was not. Crawling from Derek's arms and to the pants, I quickly pulled them on as something formulated in my mind.

 

"We need to break Peter out of Eichen house." I said and Derek instantly stared up at me. "He only wants to kill Scott, so it will be safe for us."

 

"My uncle is in there for a reason Stiles." Derek warned and I chuckled slightly.

 

"Thank you for stating the obvious and reminding me of my own name." I spat with a smile on my face. 

 

I could feel that my eyes were still red and puffy. Tremours still tore through my system, but I had to act tough. Derek only likes strong people. Strong women. Since I lack in both of those areas, I had to make up in others. Such as planning. 

 

"Not today. Sleep on it, think it through." Derek advised, and I scoffed.

 

"What sleep?" 

 

Derek's pointed look made me nod weakily. It was a look that made me shrink back. He was looking at me like I was insane. Gritting my teeth, I picked up my ruined pants and dug my phone out of the pocket. Pushing past Derek, I ignored the way my skin felt, and continued my aggravated walk until I gripped the apple. I never got to study Greek. Damn. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Derek was still watching me wearily.

 

"Do you know ancient Greek?" I asked, and by his surprised look, I gathered he didn't. "Oh well. See you tomorrow for when we get Peter out of Eichen."

 

Derek growled at that, but didn't stop me from leaving the loft. If only he had tried. Blinking rapidly, I continued on my way back home. 

 

 

 

 

Without my car, it was a much longer journey, but I made it back incident free. Once inside my room, alone, I felt that suffocating presence again.

 

"Stiles." She cooed and my throat constricted again.

 

"You know quite a few interesting people." The voice drifted until it was right in front of me.

 

An unseen hand caressed my cheek, nails dragging along it. Pain flittered across my face, replaced with a numb feeling of nothing.

 

"And those Wendigo's, oh it felt good didn't it?"

 

I managed a nod and she laughed, "You are smart Stiles. Keep the evolved one, and the resurrected."

 

Pride swelled under my chest. I had pleased this...lady. Why was I proud? 

 

"Bring chaos upon that pack." She spat the word pack, fueling my own desire. "Make them fall, let them rampage. Let there be bloodshed."

 

A smile graced my own face and her laughter echoed through my room, eventually fading as light began to filter in. There was not a single doubt in my mind now. That woman, the one who saved me, was Eris. The Greek Goddess of Strife and Discord. 

 

I was saved by the harbinger of chaos whilst my best friend avoided me. With Eris by my side, I am going to crush Scott. I don't care what I need to do, how much I need to destroy. Scott was going to suffer, and his pathetic pack along with him. Then he will know I am not weak. That I am important.

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Derek opened his loft door to a scared Scott. Lydia and Liam were in tow, both looking just as worried. No matter how hard he searched, he felt no pity. These three let Stiles die, they drove their 'friend' insane.

 

"What do you want now?" Derek asked and Scott took no notice to the bite in Derek's voice.

 

"That...thing...you came to warn me about, I need to know what it is. Lydia, she wouldn't stop screaming. She...she couldn't see but she could feel pain. It has me worried, all of us worried." Scott explained and Derek shivered.

 

The thing was Stiles, but could he really have put a Banshee in such a state? Still, Derek felt no obligation to aid these teenagers. Instead he asked a question what had bothered him. "Did you scream on Saturday?"

 

Lydia looked at him with surprise and looked around with false confidence. "I stopped halfway, and it felt like I was being smothered. Do you believe it is the creature coming?"

 

Derek took a deep breath, preparing himself for a lie, "I do not know. All I know is that trouble is brewing."

 

Liam whimpered and Scott stood protectively in front of him. "You are going to help me." Scott demanded, his eyes flashing red.

 

"No. Considering how poorly you treat your pack members, I think I will be better off alone." 

 

Lydia, Scott and Liam froze. Liam looked lost, trying to understand while Lydia seemed distraught.

 

"You spoke to Stiles didn't you!" Scott shouted, taking a step forward.

 

Derek growled, getting ready for a fight.

 

"I think we should leave Scott." Liam pleaded and Scott snarled at him.

 

"Fine. But Derek, remember what you told me. A wolf is stronger in a pack."

 

And with that, Scott left leaving Derek with his thoughts. Derek sighed, now understanding what Stiles meant. If Derek wanted more strength, he needed a pack. He needed Peter. That truely disgusted Derrk, but he couldn't fight it. Derek was drawn to Stiles, he always was but Scott wedged his problems between the two. Now that Derek felt himself losing Stiles, he wanted him more. 

 

Derek was going to stay with Stiles, even if it killed him.


	6. Almost Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles have an almost date for the sake of the plan.

I awoke to a very angry sheriff. Repressing a groan, I sat up to look at him. Why was he angry at me? My stomach clenched in paranoia of what I could have done. 

 

"Son, why is Derek at my front door?" He huffed angrily, trying to keep his voice down so Derek could not hear him.

 

Dad failed. I knew Derek could hear, I just hoped he had to common decency not to listen in. 

 

"Because we are going to find what is coming to Beacon Hills." I stated, yawning whilst stretching.

 

"Scott can do that, with Derek. We can't Stiles." Dad pressured, his voice raising.

 

"No he can't Dad! Scott is not everything okay. There are more protectors than just him out there." I snapped, too tired to attempt to filter any words.

 

"Look, Scott can effectively save the town with minimal damages." Dad was reverting to sheriff mode, leaving father bias behind.

 

His hidden meaning cut me. His words tore through my thjn walls and slashed at my hope of dad ever forgiving me. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I tried to hide my distress. I could feel my heart beating out of control, my markings constricting my skin painfully. The pain was keeping me here, saving me from the humiliation of an attack right now.

 

"How many more times must I beg? How many more times must I explain myself!" I screamed, my voice cracking. 

 

The light bulb in my room shattered and my father flinched. Releasing my knees, I gripped my bed sheets, not trusting my legs yet.

 

"Why won't you believe me dad?" I cried out, rasping against the agony these emotions gave me.

 

Derek burst into my room, causing another conflicting emotion to stir through me. Love, lust, infatuation. Just how pathetic was I? Derek would never like me back. No one here likes me, so why should he? Flames of emotion are useless, they don't need to burn anymore. They had burnt my insides, torn me apart beyond recognition. I just want to watch this town burn out like I did. 

 

"Look, I turned a blind eye to Donovan, but I am the sheriff. I am not supposed to be lenient because you are my son."

 

"This is...I don't..." I stumbled, each word my father spoke was a blow to my pathetic self-confidence.

 

"Sheriff, I would appreciate it if you didn't expect me to be with Scott purely because I am also a werewolf." Derek finally spoke, instantly grasping my fathers attention.

 

"Excuse me." The sheriff blinked, taken back by Derek's statement.

 

"I am saying that Scott and I have too many differences between our views. It would be inefficient for us two to work together. Stiles, however, is more compatible." Derek was being formal, very formal with my dad.

 

Watching confusion take over my father, I felt a rising form of glee. This was exhilarating, telling my father off whilst having the upper hand. The rapidly changing swarm of feelings was taking their toll, leaving me already worn out.

 

"Stiles, lets reasearch." Derek reached out for me, and I grabbed the apple beside my bed.

 

Ignoring my phone, I decided the golden apple of discord would be a smarter choice anyway. Clutching Derek's hand, he led me past my frozen father. Explosions went off under my skin due to his touch, and it took all my self-restraint to not hold Derek closer. Down the stairs, I found my voice again admist the confusing signals my body was giving me.

 

"So what do you say about Peter?" I asked, releasing Derek's hand.

 

"We are doing it. I am not sure how though. Werewolves have no strength in Eichen house." Derek responded once he was out.

 

His black Camero was parked in front of my house. Right, my jeep was still lost. I needed to find that.

 

"I will do it. Brute force isn't necessary." I smiled at Derek, jumping into his passenger seat with a little too much enthusiasm. 

 

"So what will you do?" Derek asked, climbing in as well.

 

"Ah, Derek, shouldn’t you be asking what your duty is?" I sung, looking at him.

 

The prospect of getting Peter out and causing confusion, maybe even chaos, gave me bursts of energy. It was the thrill driving me forward. Derek started the car before turning to me, a blank look on his face but the tell-tale signs of annoyance were visible.

 

"What am I doing then?" He huffed, driving away from my house finally.

 

"The alibi. They will suspect us most probably if Peter vanishes from his cage, so, we need to be seen. Or more accurately, the Camero with the notion both of us are inside." I explained, using large hand gestures despite the fact Derek shouldn't, wouldn't, be looking at me.

 

"Oh really."

 

"Yeah. My Jeep is still missing, so we can search for it. When I say we, I mean you. I will be at Eichen. And so people believe we are both in the car, lets get breakfast toegther. Town gossip over rules any other form of evidence." I continued, grinning as the plan formed. "And in an hour after you leave me in the forest near Eichen, we will meet back up and Peter will be saved. "

 

"I only see one flaw." Derek stated, indicating in to my favourite diner.

 

"And what is that? My plan os brilliant!" I shouted and he smirked.

 

"It will look like a date showing up here this early." Derek grinned and blush instantly took over.

 

"That isn't a flaw, if anything, it is a bonus." I blurted, "Ah shit, is it too late to take that back?"

 

Derek seemed just as flustered, ignoring my question as he chose a park. We pulled up, and left in an awkward silence. My plan was crumbling. 

 

If people took notice of the awkward atmosphere between us, they will know we won't spend time together afterwards. The alibi will fall apart if I do not fix this. Plastering a smile on my face, I looked at Derek as we entered.

 

"I can't believe I can not remember where I left my Jeep. By now some dick has probably trashed my baby." I told him, hoping he understood.

 

Derek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Did I just frustrate him? He does know this is all for my grand plan, right?

 

"Yes Stiles, I understand okay. We will find your precious Roscoe today." Derek sighed exasperatedly and I pouted.

 

He was definitely a better actor. Why did he have to be so good at fucking everything! 

 

"But..."

 

A waitress cut me off, ignoring the fact I was about to speak entirely. She stared at Derek, forgetting my existence. Pleasant.

 

"How can I help you?" She asked.

 

"We are not seated yet." Derek stated and she flushed.

 

"Of course. Take a seat and I will serve you as soon as I can." She scrambled away after and Derek smirked at me.

 

He clasped my hand and walked me towards a table. Only a few others were in this early, and I had caotured everyones attention by tripping over a table. I felt their eyes take in the fact Derek was holding my hand, and a shiver went down my spin. Pulling my hand away from his in fear, I stared down the table that tripped me. Casually fixing the tables setting, I flashed an awkward grin, but Derek didn't seem to care., reaching for my hand and bringing me in close. Close enough to whisper.

 

"You seem to be acting like your old self again."

 

Rolling my eyes, I took the lead. Seating us both at a corner booth, I flipped open the breakfast menu.

 

"I am just nervous. There are so many little components that need to work." I told him, refusing to make eye contact.

 

"What will you be doing?" He asked and I felt doubt tug at my heart.

 

"I know Eichen house. I can sneak to Peter." I assured him, gripping the menu tightly in fear. 

 

This plan needs to work. My big scheme depends on the assistance of Peter. Without Peter, I will have to find a new way ti destroy Scott. Derek still does not seem keen to destroy his once beta and my old best friend. Peter is better at vile schemes, he can help me decide the best method and then aid in the execution.

 

"Have you decided?" A feminine voice broke my thoughts, my eyes snapping up to meet her frame.

 

She was looking at Derek. 

 

"I will just have a flat white, double shot." Derek said, giving her a friendly smile. 

 

She turned to me and the smile dried from her face. Was I really that much lower class that Derek? Gritting my teeth, I forced a smile painfully on my face trying to make it look natural. By her unimpressed look, I succeeded.

 

"A latte please." I almost spat, and she just nodded.

 

Once she left, I struggled to find my prior joy. Dropping my head on the table, I groaned.

 

"I came here with every intention of buying curly fries. Do you know how long it has been since I ate them? Weeks! So I was happy for once, but then Miss Let Me Flash My Tits For Tips strolls up to you and ignores me, like sorry lady, I don't care about you, I just want some damn curly fries. But no, she looks like a failed at drowning a cat. Do you know how that feels? Terrible. No one can order under such conditions. I should..."

 

"Stiles." Derek said calmly, placing his hand on my shoulder and lightly shaking me.

 

"Sorry." I muttered, looking shyly into Derek's eyes. "My uh, Jeep. It should be near the waterfall."

 

"What waterfall?" Derek asked.

 

"The one I was not aware Beacon Hills had. Should be near there, give or take a bit." I said nonchalantly. Derek refused the break the eye contact, so I did.

 

"There are no waterfalls Stiles."

 

"Look, I might have wandered a while then. My perception of time was off for days before...before I...you know, jumped." I lost confidence with each word, slumping in my chair.

 

Derek looked deep in thought, his eyes never straying from ne. His eyebrows furrowed, a scowl more prominent on his face.

 

"I need to talk to Deaton." Derek stated and I latched a hold of his hand.

 

"What, why? Remember, the plan needs all key players." I hissed and Derek looked nauseous.

 

"Stiles, I suspect foul play from the supernatural side concerning the suicide....attempt." Derek kepr his voice low, yet the words aggravated me.

 

"No. Not everything is because of the supernatural. Sometimes it is just humans succumbing to their weaknesses okay!" I snapped, crossing my arms, "And after this coffee, game time."

 

"Fine." Derek groaned just as our coffees arrived.

 

The waitress continued flirting with Derek, so I dove straight to my caffeine source. Takung a sip, I burnt my tongue. Placing the cup down gently, I had to wait until the waitress was gone before I could show my pain. Eventually she left, and my first reaction was to stick out my tongue.

 

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, a small smile curling his lips.

 

"I burnt my tongue." 

 

Due to the fact my tongue was sticking out, my words were less coherent than I had originally intended. Strangely enough though, that was all it took to make Derek laugh.

 

"How can you be scheming? Ever since we left your house you have been acting like a child." He laughed.

 

Bringing my sore tongue back into my mouth, I frowned. Glancing around though, more people had filtered in and noticed both of us. Now just to get them to know we are leaving together, then my alibi is concrete.

 

"Just finish your stupid coffee. I want to hurry up and find my precious Jeep." I exclaimed rather loudly, making it seem like an accident.

 

"Finish yours as well." Derek sighed, taking a sip from his own.

 

"Screw you." I mumbled before taking a sip. "My tongue is too sore for this!"

 

Derek chuckled again before drinking all of his, "Then lets leave now."

 

We both paid individually before leaving. Making sure people watched us both enter Derek's car, I breathed out heavily as soon as I closed the door. Grabbing the apple, I looked at Derek.

 

"Part one completed, time to initiate part two." I said in a mocking voice and Derek just stared back at me. "What?"

 

He just shook his head and began driving. Now I just had to get into Eichen house without being seen. Breaking Peter out would be the hardest part though. Locating him would not be the hardest part, nor would convincing him to aid me be. No, the getting him out of his cell unnoticed would be. 

 

Staring out the window, I tried to finalize the details in my mind. Eichen house was not complicated when it came to the floor plan. Memorizing each path was not hard, but I had no idea where Peter was being held. So first I would have to break into the records. There it would state just where Peter was being held. Finding him afterwards will be easy, if I can avoid the wardens that is. Frankly, convincing Peter would be the easiest part. 

 

Clutching the apple, I thought of the hardest part. Getting him out of the room, smuggling him out undetected. Then meeting up with Derek unnoticed. Difficult. Nobody really went near Derek's loft, so getting him inside there shoukd be easy. Maybe.

 

Derek pulled up near Eichen house where there was not a soul in sight. Smiling wearily at Derek, I climbed out of the car. Confidence welled under my chest as I turned back to him. Grinning sheepishly, I scratched the back of my neck with my free hand.

 

"So, uh, things could go wrong and um, nearly dying opened my eyes. Derek, I am going to die someday and so are you so just kiss me." I blurted, confessing my feelings somewhat.

 

Derek just stared at me again, shock clearly written across his face. Just as I thought, I should not have said anything. 

 

"Sorry, nevermind. See you in an hour." I rushed, slamming the door before fleeing into the woods without looking back.

 

Peter was our top priority, not my stupid feelings. Would Derek accept me if I was a werewolf, if I wasn't weak, if I wasn't male? Shaking my head, I continued running, my heart pounding from rejection. 

 

Coming up to the side of Eichen House, I just needed to climb this wall first. Launching myself onto the side, I began my plan.

 

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Driving, Derek tried to clear his cluttered mind. So much had happened, too much to comprehend. At the diner, it had felt like a date to Derek. Stiles let him hold his hand and Stiles acted free. Derek had felt a creeping sense of happiness, something he thought he didn’t deserve. It didn't matter that it was only for the plan, Derek had enjoyed himself.

 

What truely stumped him was Stiles parting words. Stiles wanted Derek. Stiles liked Derek. He had to, or he would not have asked for a kiss. 

 

Slamming his fist against the steering wheel, Derek felt anger. He wished he had acted, not stared. Derek had wanted to bad to kiss him, but Stiles had run before he could answer. Pushing his feelings aside, Derek focused on the plan.

 

He hoped Stiles was not caught. Derek hoped Stiles succeeded. Though he did not want revenge, he wanted to make Stiles happy and if that meant involving Peter, Derek was okay with it.

 

The only thing Derek was not okay with was that Stiles believed he was alive. How would he react now that he wanted nothing more than to live?

 

Derek focused on driving with no real intention.


	7. Breaking Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles breaks Peter out and a secret (not really, cause yeah) is revealed.

With my feet firmly on the otherside of the wall-like fence, I crepr low to the ground. I had to find a way in to be unnoticed. Creeping in at broad daylight was not easy, but no one expected it. Twisting the apple between my hands, I contemplated which was to go in. Hadn't I taken Lydia through hidden paths when I was possessed? Well, the Nogitsune half of me did. That was the best way to go in unnoticed. 

 

Finding the paths with ease, I kept low despite the distinct lack of others. If I was caught, my entire plan would fall through. 

 

Inside the main part of Eichen house, I went by studied memory towards the file room. Checking the paths before taking them was a wise decision. Nurses and wardens walked the halls constantly, checking on patients. I had almost been caught several times before reaching the file room. Which just happened to be locked. The door was out in the open, and a worker could stroll past at any time which limited the amount of time I could spend picking the lock. 

 

Pulling what I needed out of my pocket, I could hear footsteps approaching. Typical. This cut my time drastically. Quickly attempting to pick the lock, I failed. 

 

"Shit." I swore softly to myself, licking my lips feverishly. 

 

Attempting it again, the footsteps echoed closer, taunting me. My heart began to pound fearfully at the prospect of being caught. The door opened and I almost blew my cover by cheering. Diving through the now open door, I closed it quietly behind me, listening to it latch. A worker walked past after five seconds. Letting out a shaky breath once the past, I held a hand over my heart in a feeble attempt to calm it. I can only calm down once I am safe at home.

 

Setting to work at the cabinets, I placed the apple by my feet. Even under the terrible lighting and flickering fluorescent, the apple still held its malicious shine, tempting me to fall. Shaking my head, I ran a shaky finger along the letters. Finding the H section was easy, but Eichen had been around for a long time and seen many patients. In the filing cabinet were a lot of peoples files who had a last name beginning with H. 

 

Stroking my finger along the tags to read them, I grazed over folders with quick accuracy. Someone, anyone, could walk in at this moment and find me. How could I possibly explain myself in such a predicament? They won't let me tell the truth about Donovan so why would they listen to me lie about Eichen.

 

Finding Peter's name finally, I grabbed his file hastily. Flipping it open, I glanced through it and snorted before clamping a hand over my mouth.

 

"Narcissistic behaviours shown. This is Peter." I muttered quietly before finding his floor and cell number. 

 

Taking the coordinates to memory, I placed the folder back gently. Picking up the apple, I felt compelled to gaze upon its skin. Tearing my eyes away, I focused back on the mission. My plan. Closing the drawer, I crept back towards the door, looking out through the small frosted glass. Seeing no one, I quickly ducked out. 

 

Running through the halls with haste, I still managed to notice and avoid workers before they noticed me. Finding my way underneath, I felt a strange pull, almost like a force was trying to weaken me drastically. Fighting through the sensation, I noted the distinct reduction of staff down here. That was to my advantage. 

 

Finding my way to a far off cell, an isolation cell, was time consuming. Eichen house was large, well built really. Peter was stashed away in one of the dark corners away from view. It was a strange feeling to finally see him again. A man I had wanted to kill upon many occasions who I was now glad to see.

 

"Oh a visitor, I do not believe I have had one before." Peter drawled, sitting on a small bed, refusing to look at me with childish stubbornness.

 

"Well, technically I am not a visitor." I admitted, grinning as he looked at me.

 

"Stiles, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Peter continued, his voice dripping with loathing.

 

"The pleasure is mine." I smirked and Peter crossed his arms. "I believe we may have a common agenda." 

 

"As much as I am glad to finally be speaking with someone, we have nothing in common." Peter looked at me with growing disdain, stepping towards the glass barrier.

 

"That is what you think." I chuckled, placing my hand on the glass, my other still holding the apple.

 

"Humour me."

 

"I want Scott McCall dead." I spat, digging my chewed nails into the glass.

 

Peter laughed dryly, wiping away a nonexistent tear. "That does not fool me boy."

 

"It is true. Peter, I have Derek on my side but we both know that despite his harsh exterior, Derek has never really killed. Paige was your fault really, and that is the onky memorable time." I began and Peter nodded slowly in agreement, smirking when Paige was mentioned.

 

"Derek is rather soft, but I still don't believe you." Peter smiled unconvincingly, but not moving away. Progress.

 

"Peter, Scott kicked me out of the pack, labelled me a murderer and drove me insane. All I did was kill a Chimera and suddenly I am evil incarnate." I almost began ranting, but Peter's knowing smile stopped me.

 

"So you finally killed someone on your own terms." Peter said slowly, and I glared.

 

"I want revenge. I want Scott to suffer. Scott deserves all the pain I have carried since the night you bit him." I growled and Peter smiled.

 

Applying more pressure onto the glass, Peter hummed. He was thinking through my words.

 

"I want in." Peter announced, taking a step back. "What do you need me for?"

 

"Derek needs a pack, I need your mind." I shrugged, inspecting the glass. "I am not a visitor, I am the break out team."

 

"Using my perfect brain, I already see a flaw in your plan. I really expected more from you Stiles." Peter shook his head with a dissapointed look on his face.

 

"What is it with you Hale's and finding a problem in my plans? What is so wrong with it then!" I demanded almost too loudly.

 

"You lack the...power...to get me out of here." Peter smiled wryly and I rolled my eyes.

 

"This pathetic human can do a few things alright." I muttered.

 

Bringing the tattoos to the palm of my hand, I felt powet well at the tips of my fingers. This power needed an outlet and the glass was the perfect candidate. A shrill crack resonated throughout the small space, followed by the sound of ice breaking. Watching as the glass developed lines, new paths, Peter actually laughed properly. The glass finally gave out under my hand, and Peter stepped through. Grabbing his wrist, I began the run out of here.

 

Peter's laugh and the sound of breaking glass had probably notified everyone. Once I pass a certain point in the halls, that will be an exceptionally good thing. All tbe staff down here, less to see me escape. Yanking Peter into a watch office, I closed the door behind us. Shaking slightly, Peter inhaled deeply behind me. Ignoring his strange behaviour, I began to watch workers race passed. Waiting until a few moments moved by after the last one to run through, I exited the room and bolted towards the main section of Eichen house, Peter in tow. This was thrilling.

 

Watching people run by my hiding places with terror lacing their faces made my blood fill with ecstasy. The chaos made me feel tipsy, like the world was mine for the picking. This feeling was bliss. Avoiding wardens and knowing I had succeeded in breaking Peter out of his cell intensified every emotion swelling in the chasm by my heart. So close to success. 

 

Leaving the building, I ran to the fence that could easily be confused as a wall. Peter just groaned.

 

"Where is Derek in all this? Shouldn't he be picking us up here?" Peter complained and I sighed.

 

"Just...just follow me."

 

Leaping onto the wall, I struggled to pull myself up. My flimsy muscles struggled with the vigorous excersise. Peter easily leapt over, only a slight amount of effort needed due to being rendered almost human for months. Falling down beside Peter, I huffed. It was much harder with only one hand. My left hand still clung to the apple, hindering me slightly. Gesturing for Peter to follow me once again, I felt no need to run. Now was the chance to catch my breath.

 

Strolling along the path I had taken to reach Eichen, I saw Derek approaching. This was not part of the plan.

 

All three of us where concealed in the trees, but panic ate at me.

 

"You meeting us here was not apart of the plan." I hissed and Peter chuckled.

 

"You were late Stiles. I came to find you." Derek snapped and I groaned.

 

"Stop treating me like I am made of porcelain. I can do things by myself."

 

"Really?" Derek smirked.

 

"Yes. I, a puny human, broke into Eichen and busted out a full grown zombie werewolf. Humans are not weak!"

 

Peter laughed, and Derek shot him a warning look. Was Peter going to contradict me somehow, make me feel weak? When he caught Derek's look, a humour filled look of disbelief marred his face as he opened his arms.

 

"Stiles doesn't know he is dead, does he?" Peter stated and my world began to swirl.

 

"For fucks sake Peter, shut up!" Derek yelled as my vision began to grow black.

 

Feeling myself drop to my knees in some distant place, I felt lost. Far away from the reality in which Peter and Derek begun to move my trembling body.

 

"Stiles." A soft voice cooed and I finalky found my own.

 

"Eris."

 

Everything went black.

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Once again, Derek found himself wanting to kill his uncle. Peter stood smugly over Stiles as the poor boy fell into a panic. Grabbing his limp body before it could hit the ground, Derek was consumed with anger. Turning to Peter, Derek decided to answer the questions before Peter could ask.

 

"Scott. It was Scott's fault. He broke Stiles." Derek admitted, watching for a reaction.

 

"I never really like Scott." Peter predictably stated, reachinf for Stiles. "I always preferred this one."

 

"Stiles killed himself. But he thought, no he believed, that he had survived."

 

"We now he is definitely not human. I think we stand a chance at destroying Scott and everything he stands for." Peter said casually, helping now lift Stiles.

 

"What hurts a werewolf the most?" Derek asked as they carried Stiles.

 

Peter stayed silent for a moment before real emotion overtook him.

 

"Exactly what sent me mad. The desertion of a pack." Peter said with loneliness tainting his words.

 

Derek flinched. He and Laura were....responsible for his rampage? If they had stayed, would Peter had stayed sane?

 

Did Derek really tear apart Peter as they both coped with the lose of family?


	8. Eat Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles plans. Peter aids Stiles with only two requirements and Stiles takes a bite.
> 
> Derek visits Deaton who advises him against it.

Darkness. The world was swallowed by the darkness lurking in my mind, dragging light from those who need it most for my own greed. Vaguely, I could feel my body move. Opening my eyes slowly, pain assaulted my mind. How come I felt all this, but my body was dead? How could I trust Peter's words? Slowly adjusting to the outside world, I took in the form of Derek sitting down in front of me. My other senses slowly came back to me, my hearing being the first. Hearing Peter move around in near proximity did not aid my nerves. 

 

Derek noticed I had now awoken and pounced forward, concern bringing his eyebrows together.

 

"Are you alright Stiles?" Derek asked and Peter laughed.

 

"He just found out he is dead, what else do you expect?" Peter quipped from behind.

 

Derek frowned, not sure whether or not to just ignore Peter. Looking around, I could not see the apple. Panic overcame me. Sitting up frantically, I began my search. Tossing blankets off the couch was futile. I still could not see it.

 

"Where is the apple!" I shouted and I swear I could hear Peter smirk.

 

"Don't fret. I have it." Peter said.

 

Spinning to look at Peter, I crouched, ready to pounce.

 

"Give me my apple." I growled, aggravated by the sight of someone holding the apple of discord.

 

"Apples have always played key roles in past events. The apple of eve, the golden apple of discord, even the apple that prompted the theory of gravity. What importance does this apple have?" Peter questioned, gazing upon the apple as Hamlet did a skull. 

 

"I don't have time for your shit. I need that apple." I bit back a shout, barely containing myself.

 

My entire body ached for the apple. Pain ripped through me the longer it stayed in Peter's hand and away from me. My knees buckled under the weight of the world as I stared. Peter threw the apple at me which I struggled to catch. Strength slowly sapped into my aching limbs, but I still felt weak. This pain was not as prominent as dying, but it did not feel like living either. Now that I had the apple, I felt at some point of peace. 

 

"Lets just move past my state of living." I mumbled, sitting back down. 

 

Taking in my scenery, I realised we were in my lounge room. Glancing at Peter, I felt that what I was about to ask would give away the nature of the apple I possessed, but I did not have time to waste learning an entire language.

 

"Do you speak or understand ancient Greek?" I asked, feeling lethargic. 

 

Peter smiled and walked close. He clasped my hands, ignoring Derek's growl.

 

"Ah, this is golden." Peter gently touched the apple in my hands, his eyes widening manically. "I may know a bit. I do want to be an alpha worth fearing."

 

Derek sighed this time. His phone began to vibrate violently, signifying that he had a call. That all  captured my attention. Looking at him, Derek was reaching for his phone. 

 

"It is Braeden." He mumbled and I nodded. 

 

He needed to take this call. Derek just left her, he needed to talk to her. They were together. As much as it tore me apart, I felt they suited each other. I loved Derek, but it nevers works in my favour. Watching Derek leave, I felt my heart tear. Ignoring Peter, I began to crumble.

 

I can't believe I used to think this pain was love. This agonizing and debilitating pain was all love could give me. After meeting Derek, after really meeting him, I thought I was love struck. In reality I was just fucked up. The human who thought he could run with wolves whilst offering his heart to the alpha. I was wrong, so wrong.

 

It was my heart, his knife. 

 

Gripping my hair, I tried to repress tears. I wished I could quit him, I wished I never missed him. Now I had another barrier between me and Derek. I was dead. I was being animated by the Goddess of Discord. What reason would he have to love me? Not a single one. 

 

Why am I so hung up on someone I will never have? Peter wrapped his arms around me, rubbing soothing circles into my back. A man who hated everything I once stood for was offering me comfort and that gave the last finally blow to my dignity. Eventually I worked through the tears I wished I hadn't shed, but Derek had yet to reappear. Peter pulled away, an unreadable look on his face. 

 

"What Greek text do you want translated?" He asked, standing in front of me. 

 

Standing up as well, I led him upstairs quietly. Once in my room, I pulled my board into the centre of my room, pulling a sheet off it. Peter stalked around it, murmuring to himself. There was not much written, just a few clean lines. Soon Peter stood in front of me, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face.

 

"I will tell you what it says if you can give me something in return." He said calmly, igniting my fears.

 

"What?"

 

"Actually, two things. The honour of killing Scott McCall..."

 

I cut him off, "No. I want to tear him limb from limb." I growled, anger welling in my chest.

 

"Fine, I will allow your to satiate your sick desires. My second wish better come true though."

 

"What is your second demand?" I snapped, just wanting to know what had been written on my board.

 

"You stay with me after this all ends. Every pack needs an emissary."

 

Was Peter outright telling me that when this all ends, he will have a pack worthy of an emissary? Strangely enough, it appealed to me.

 

"Deal. Now tell me."

 

"Okay, calm down. It was nothing exciting." Sarcasm dripped off his words, making me smile even. "You have died Stiles, to retain your body of chaos, you must take a bite from the apple every day. Failure will lead to weakness. You are no longer alive, but you are also not dead. You are the reject of death."

 

"A bit morbid don't you think, constantly stating my demise." I smiled timidly, bringing the apple to my lips.

 

It doesn't matter if I die anyway. No one would care, not really. There was no risk biting into the apple that could fuel an entire war. Sinking my teeth into the apple, I tore away some of what the fruit had to offer.

 

Swallowing the bite, I felt an explosion. Power, the feel of raw and unbridled power surged through me. By the look of bliss on Peter's face, he to felt it. Voices of the past began to whisper around us, sharing secrets in languages I failed to understand. I was lost to the tidal wave of power. The outside world no longer mattered. It didn't until the feeling faded.

 

Reaching for another bite, Peter held my wrist, stopping me.

 

"The board stated to only take a single bite. Judging from the power I felr, I doubt a single body can contain a direct flow that intense."

 

"I feel powerful. I feel...good." I explained, fumbling with my words.

 

"You look as though you lack confidence. You might not look as good as me, but you should at least try."  Peter sneered.

 

"I have a slight plan formed, but I am not sure it will work. Theo tried it and it failed pretty much." I grumbled to myself, now ignoring Peter.

 

"Stiles, isolate Scott." Peter almost cooed softly, and a switch went off.

 

"Scott wants Derek. If Derek can worm into their pack and bring doubt with him, I...I mean we, can deliver fatal blow after blow. I know everything about every pack member. I hear everything, I just never talk." I told Peter, excitement coming off me in waves.

 

"Then who to break first?" Peter asked, leaning in close.

 

Derek chose that moment to enter, derailing my train of thought. Peter noticed instantly and sighed. 

 

"Yes Derek." Peter said with only slight anger tainting his words.

 

"Um, Braeden broke it off. Just then."

 

"What, did she say you were unresponsive in the relationship?" I jabbed at him, a false smile on my face.

 

"Peter, can I talk to you outside for a moment." Derek strained and smile, and Peter complied.

 

They shut the door as the left, leaving me with my thoughts. Thoughts that even though a Goddess noticed me, I wasn't enough. Everyone wants just that little bit more. Everyone wants something for nothing in return. I was damaged before my time, struggling to hold myself together. I was the broken friend people whispered about, I was the tragic tale people tried to help. I was the human who used to run with wolves. Now I wished I could cut myself out of my own skin. 

 

The pack and I still lived in the same town, attended the same school but I was no longer pack. A human could never be pack. Everything shattered around me, and it was my mistake. I was deluded, a fool. It took me too long to see that. Now I was fucked up.

 

Nobody spoke to me for weeks, nobody tried to keep me grounded. Keep me sane. Scott didn't understand. He doesn't understand. My kind are weak. Humans are easily bent. My fears were brought forward and my hopes were burnt. I was a hollowed version of who I used to be. 

 

Humans are not Gods. We were never designed to surpass our creators. Humans were made as pawns in a never ending conflict. Good verse evil. Light verse dark. And while the Gods dine on knowledge, humans are ment to grovel. Meer humans should never tamper in the realm of Gods. That taboo should never be broken. Humans are definately not Gods. Humans can never surpass the Gods. We can only become demons.

 

That is how life works, something I need to accept. I need accept that I cannot become a God. But I can be a demon.

 

Springing to life, I glanced at the apple. The flesh had healed, any marks of being bitten was gone entirely. I can never become sacred, so why not be damned? Nobody liked ne anyway. Not anyone sane. 

 

People feared me, respected me, when I was possessed. When I became demonic. If I could reach those levels without the aid of being possessed, Scott will understand. To figure this out, I need to be focused.

 

Grabbing my bottle of Adderall in a rush, I didn’t count as I poured pills onto my hand. I was already walking a thin line between coping and insanity. These small pills could push me either way. Taking pill after pill dry, I was already pacing. How should I target the pack?

 

Who should I eliminate first? 

 

Taking the last pill in my hand, I approached the board and rubbed out what Eris had written. This was my scene. 

 

Writing every pack members name down, Scott's in the centre, I tried to mentally find the weakest link. Tried to identify their largest personal weakness and a way to exploit it. Lydia was her sanity. It was drifting away. Each day it flowed away with time. If I could trigger her downfall, push her slightly, she would spiral. An insane Lydia will not be a fun Lydia. Meredith proved to me what an pushed Banshee becomes. Malia was also easy to break down. Her mother or the fact she was feral for years. Since her mother was a killer, I did not want to face that straight up. So if I picked Malia, slowly point out her feral tendencies. Make them seem like a big deal. Blame her directly for her adoptive families death. Liam was also worked out. It was not his IED I wanted to target. No. It was his relationship with his father. It was already thin, Liam wanted nothing more than to impress the man. So make him disappointed. 

 

Kira was harder. True, I hadn't really spent time with her, but I knew things. I had to. She was nervous around people, and that could be used. Force her into open and public situations. For her crack to show, I would have to wait. If Scott was stressed about his other members, he couldn't fix Kira. That was known.

 

Scott. Scott would break from desertion. I will push him, pressure him and blame him. I will get inside his head, put deaths upon his hands and force blood upon them. Then I will pierce his flesh. Scott will fall before me. Then he will know I am not worthless, that he should have never thrown me out.

 

Each gear in this plan had to move effectively together to work properly. I had the bones of a plan, I just needed to flesh it out. Who to take out first, how to work discreetly and how to not be caught. If Scott noticed or caught on to what I was doing, it would all fall through. He would unite the pack and treat me like this weeks bad guy. And the pack he holds with pride will grow closer. That is the opposite of what I want, so I know I need to work in secrecy. 

 

Peter's forte. Sure we never trusted him, but not a single one of us presumed he was working with a changed Kate, or that his mad ramblings formed a deadpool. Peter was the king at big plans and I need to utilize his skills. 

 

Derek was my muscle, someone to turn to if things got violent though I proved I could fight agaibst those three Wendigo's. That is it! I need Derek to train me. Taking a step back from my full board, I saw half formed plans I wasn't even aware I had schemed scrawled across. Despite that, I saw progress. I saw revenge. 

 

My plan still needed work, but that was expected. No one comes up with the perfect idea for this sort of thing in under ten minutes anyway.

 

Derek entered my room, Peter trailing behind and they both stared at me, eyes flickering to the board. Not giving them the satisfaction to mentally demoralize me, I stepped forward.

 

"Teach me how to fight. The plan, the plan needs work, but I need to know this. How to fight I mean. Please."

 

Watching Derek give Peter a meaningful look, he sighed. Was he giving in to my request?

 

"Fine. Okay. But you have to obey my every command in training." Derek warned and Peter snickered.

 

Not thinking into Peter's response, I punched the air in excitement. Silently cheering, I felt everything slowly falling into place.

 

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Everything was falling apart. Derek felt as though he was losing Stiles to madness. After speaking to Peter about Stiles, Peter said it was not madness. It was Strife. That left Derek with more questions. 

 

Stiles asked for Derek to teach him how to fight, which was startling so of course he agreed. Maybe Derek could bring Stiles back. 

 

Excusing hinself once again, Derek knew he needed to speak to Deaton. Ordering Stiles to hide Peter for a bit, Derek left. He left to get Deaton's opinion. 

 

Once at the vet clinic, Deaton instantly went to talk to Derek, but Derek spoke first.

 

"Something is wrong with Stiles."

 

"What might be wrong with that boy?" Deaton asked, resting his hands on a sterile operating table.

 

"He was brought back from the dead." Derek stated and Deaton seemed shocked.

 

"I was not aware of this situation. Can you tell me anything else?" He asked and Derek complied.

 

"He gained strength. I saw him kill three Wendigo's like it was nothing. And he is hell bent on destruction, ensuing chaos." Derek rambled, and remembered Stiles fit this morning. "And he has this new found obsession for this single apple."

 

Deaton snapped his eyes towards Derek, panic clear on his face.

 

"An apple?"

 

"Yes. He got incredibly aggravated when he saw...someone....holding it." Derek explained, uncomfortable with the whole situation.

 

"Has he taken a bite from the apple?" Deaton asked and Derek had to think.

 

Not once had he seen that apple touch Stiles's lips, so he highly doubted Stiles had bitten the apple.

 

"No. Is that good or bad?"

 

"Good. If this is what I presume it to be, I can only save him and everyone involved if he has not taken a bite." Deaton told Derek, now rummaging through vials hidden within the vet clinic.

 

Derek breathes a sigh of relief. There was a way to save Stiles from his own self-destruction.


	9. Death At The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes Stiles out, and chaos follows.

Derek left me alone with Peter. Me, a dead human being used as a Goddess's puppet, to watch a very living Werewolf. Peter smirked the moment the door closed and stretched. He had been waiting for this. 

 

"Stiles, you may be dead but how do you feel about living?" Peter asked curiously, his question hokding more meaning than I could interpret.

 

"I want to live, but how can I when I am dead?"

 

"You weren't living before, that is how. Not really. Every young adolescent needs to let free their worries and go out. Stiles, allow me to take you out." He offered and I pouted.

 

"As tempting as that sounds, there are two major flaws. One, I cannot let you be seen. Two, I cannot find my Jeep."

 

Peter laughed, stalking the room towards me.

 

"You worry too much. We can go two towns over. And who said that we should use your car anyway?" Peter enquired, taking the apple from my hand.

 

Now that my mind was focused on the world, I noticed that Peter was not in Eichen house attire. When did he get changed? Whose clothes was he wearing? Apparently he caught my focused stare and he looked a little proud of it.

 

"Like what you see? Everyone else does." He grinned and I shook my head whilst smiling.

 

"If you want to go a town or two over, you organize transport." 

 

In truth, the whole idea of living was a buzz in my system, something I now longed for when not so long ago I longed to be how I am now. Knowing as much as I did about Peter, I knew he would have an idea to get us both away unnoticed. I wanted him to. 

 

"I need you to sneak me to a warehouse near Derek's loft. Believe it or not, I also own a vehicle." Peter announced, breaking my thoughts.

 

"So you want me to sneak you, on foot might I add, across the entirety of Beacon Hills and not be caught." I snapped, crossing my arms. It was impossible, unprobably and...I want to try it.

 

"I guess you are not that great then..."

 

I held up my hand to silence him, thinking. How do I do this? I know Beacon Hills. I was a direct yet discreet path. I can do this. 

 

"I think I might know a way if you are willing to risk getting thrown back in Eichen." I warned him and he smirked.

 

"Do it if you are confident you won't be thrown in jail for breaking me out."

 

"I won't back down Peter." I zeroed in on him and he huffed slightly.

 

"Okay. Lead on Stilinski. Oh, and leave the apple behind. Hide it or something."

 

Looking around my bomb site of a room, I stalked over to my bookshelf, pulling out a few books, I placed the apple right at the back of the shelf. Putting the books in, I was glad for my too large bookshelf. The apple was well hidden. Now for a way to escape to that warehouse.

 

Not wanting to touch Peter for fear of how it would feel against my tattoos, I breezed past him. Peter would follow, he would go mad stuck in my house just waiting for the sheriff to find him. I needed Peter somewhat stable for anything to work. I need Peter.

 

Taking the front door, Peter raised an eyebrow.

 

"Your genius plan is to go out in front of everyone?"

 

"Partially, yes." I didn't bother explaining. 

 

I started walking, the mental map in action. Walking blocks, I noriced it was late afternoon. Shifting my route slightly, Peter seemed shocked at the lack of people on each path I chose. People worked on schedules, and rarely were they broken. Besides, I ignored any way I knew that contained security camera’s. If they cannot pin us together, they have no solid evidence to convict me. Avoided high traffic areas and walking by primarily empty houses was my plan. People behaved like clock work, and thay kept me safe. Their need to fit in. 

 

After meticulously weaving through the town, it took an hour to find the warehouse Peter mentioned, but when we did, Peter smiled genuinely.

 

"You are a genius." Peter stated, crushing a padlock in his fist.

 

What was the point of that lock? Peter opened the door and revealed a black Toyota Celica. Did the Hales have a fetish with the colour black or something? He opened the car, revealing it was unlocked and turned to engine on. Of course he had left the keys inside. Perfect. Stalking over, my over consumption of Adderall was kicking in. Focus. I was too focused. Folding my limbs into the car, I felt like applauding Peter on choice. It didn't stand out. The car just looked like a normal street car.

 

As soon as I closed the door, Peter began to drive. Checking his speedo, I was glad he was following the speed limits. If he broke any, we would be caught. Speed cameras, officers watching and just anything that could catch us in that aspect. Well, if we were caught I could cry kidnapper. That way I will be safe and anything Peter says will be ignored. He is an escapee from Eichen, everyone will assume he is insane. 

 

Flicking through radio stations, I wanted to find a channel with music playing. And good music. Just something to distract my mind in anyway. The focus was unnerving, taunting. Peter did not utter a single word, staying stoic. In the past I would have given anything to make him silent, to cut the condescending act but right now I would beg him to speak. Thoughts are never kind so I was desperate for a break. 

 

Leaving Beacon Hills, my body went rigid for a moment. My tattoos swirled tightly, winding me. Clutching my leg, I gasped on air. I didn't want to leave. 

 

"Give it a moment. When your body realises you are not staying away, it will probably get easier." Peter finally spoke, pressing down on the accelerator. 

 

Pressing my thin body into the seat with force, I tried to assume my limbs that I was going to go back to Beacon Hills. I was not ready to leave Scott whole. 

 

"Lets just live in the closest city." Peter winked at me and I nodded.

 

"Yeah, lets do that."

 

 

 

The closest city was only an hour away. Peter pulled up outside a club and I could hear its music out on the street. This is not my scene. It cannot be. My scene is alone in my room, pouring over books as Scott lives.

 

That sent anger through ever fibre of my body, steeling my eyes. Getting my ID ready, I was going to live. Peter walked close behind me, not speaking. The bouncer let us both in and the music exploded in my ears. Smiling at Peter, he pointed towards a bar, ushering for me to follow him. When I did, Peter bought me a Rum and Coke. 

 

Letting it burn my throat, I smiled. It took more than one drink to take away my worries. Peter sat down, not impressed with the crowd but I smiled. I was going to party. I don't give a shit about my responsibilities. I was no longer pack, I did not have to be sober in case of a surprise monster I had to research.

 

Allowing the music to pound me and the crowd to whisk me away, I took another large gulp from my drink. Smirking at another night cluber, I raised my head to show I wanted to speak. The guy looked attractive under these pulsating lights and that was probably what prompted me forward.

 

"Whats up." I said as a greeting and he smiled.

 

Ditching his female dance partner, he turned to me. Bouncing to the beat, it was not about the dancing. It was about the alcohol pulsating in our bloodstreams and the energy it gave us. Quickly finishing my drink, I was still sober but it was fine. Peter, however, must still see me and have disagreed. My drink was replaced and I caught his retreating wink. 

 

The guy I stole looked confused, but I didn't explain. Taking another drink, the burn was slightly more intense. I could feel eyes on me. It was not an awkward sensation, it didn't feel like people were hating me. No, it felt like people were gravitating towards me. I thought I would hate this. Typically, I am shy in large crowds but right now, I felt sexy. But I was also still scared. Scared of failure.

 

"Hey." The guy finally yelled back into my ear over the noise. 

 

I took that as an invitation to bring my body in close. This club was filled with faces I didn't know which freed me from normal confines. Finishing my second drink, Peter was once again quick to fill it. A buzz was starting to form. Focusing on the buzz, I felt myself falling. Medication and alcohol does not mix, ever. It lowered my tolerance towards alcohol by two whoke drinks.

 

Allowing the stranger place his hands on me, my mind drifted to Derek. On how it would feel if this was his hands, not this stranger. How it would feel to have his whole attention. Staring at this stranger, I felt lost. Lost to my emotions and lost to the beat. It was easier if I pretended. 

 

Alcohol never caused me to black out, but right now I wished I could. Viciously taking a drink, I longed for the illusion of happiness it carried. It wasn’t hard to find. Three drinks down and my mind was starting to unfocus. Bringing the stranger in close, I placed my lips on his because it felt right. Anything would feel right when alcohol was brought in. The guy returned to favour. Maybe he was partying to forget someone, to escape from life. 

 

My empty cup was changed for a full one. Pulling away from the stranger, I took another drink. Happiness was addictive. Alcohol gave it to me. 

 

Soon I was drunk, hanging onto the attractive stranger. He grew slightly more perfect with each mouthful of liquor I consumed. All eyes were on me as I felt my body move more sensually. The tattoos were twirling my body. With so many lust filled eyes resting on my sweat coated body was exhilarating and I wanted more. I longed for more. 

 

The stranger I started with finally grew jealous of the eyes taking me in and clasped my hand. I could see Peter the entire time the stranger led me to the back wall and pressed my back against it. He began to kiss me feverishly, letting my hands trail up his torso. Was tbis living? 

 

Getting swept away in the current of hormones, I didn’t care where they led. I was going to defile this mans body, or let him taint me further. It didn't matter. Trapped between wanting and needing, I clutched his shirt with desperation.

 

Ever since Theo, I had not been laid. Theo ruined me, and I was going to ruin anyone who touched me. 

 

Peter pried this stranger away. 

 

"Stiles, Derek wants us back. He is pretty pissed."

 

I gave him a confused look and Peter sighed.

 

"I took the liberty of bringing your phone. It is already one am." Peter explained and I pouted. 

 

He rolled his eyes and grabbed me. The stranger I was intimate with looked devastated, broken from the lose of our lust filled embrace. Once outside in the cool air, my fevered flesh began to cool. Peter perked up once we reached the car, listening to something I couldn't hear. He grinned maliciously, walking away from the locked car. Swaying dangerously, I decided it was more fun to follow. 

 

Two alleys past, we finally turned down the third were a vampire held a human victim. So that was all. 

 

"I personally like hunting vampires. Even the fang bangers with them." Peter drawled, capturing the vampires attention.

 

The woman in the creatures arm weakily cried for help, but I felt no sympathy. Not even pity.

 

"Are they fun?" I asked, my words slurring. 

 

Bringing my tattoos to my fists, I registered Peter's nodded before I launched. Connecting my fist with cold skin, I heard a beautiful crack yet the vampire still swung back. His nails grazed my cheek and alcohol tainted my vision, sparkinf frustration. Power began to freely flow into my every muscle.

 

Pouncing back on the attack, I hit the vampire repeatedly, pressuring him backwards. When the vampire seemed off balance, I gave him a solid kick to the solar plexus. He ended uo sprawled on the ground, beaten and broken. This was not enough, his insides were still hidden. Straddling his aching body, I held him down with my own weight as I repeatedly hit him in a frenzy. My fists grew red but I couldn't stop. The vampire still writhed under me. Grunting with each punch I threw, my body numbed. 

 

His skull was pushed in, blood barely seeping through the mangled mess. Picking up his broken head, I twisted sharply, relishing the snap of his neck. Yanking, I somehow found the strength to rip his head off. That was a revitalizing sensation. Now that the head was removed, he shouldn't be able to hear..

 

A whimper reminded me that he had a woman in his clutches befoee Peter led us here. Stalking over to her, I inspected her neck as it was a favoured location to bite.

 

Multiple bites littered her creamy flesh, some older. She was a fang bangers or just got off on the feel of canines peircing her flesh. Hatred rose in me from pits I did not notice inside me.

 

Disgusting, vile, trash. How could she do such a despicable act? Humans can never work with the supernatural. Humans never gain anything! Pressing my foot across her neck, I applied pressure. I had snapped. Blame it on the alcohol or blame it on the new found power. I felt strong. And inflicting pain was healing me. 

 

The woman stopped struggling and a numb feeling resided inside of me. I was capable of killing, that much was clear. Peter began to lead me back to the car, avoiding the fact that I killed a victim. He praised me for destroying the vampire. I killed.

 

When I grow sober, I will regret what I just did but right now I didn't care. What I did care about was why Derek wanted us back. I cared about Derek. Blood did not coat me this time. In fact, only my hands and forearms had a light sprinkle glazing them. Oh shit, I killed someone. 

 

Gripping my hair, I began to cry. Sick, I must be sick. Sick of this shit. I continued to walk, my breath ragged. Was this what it truely felt like to fall apart? Peter didn't attempt to comfort me and I was grateful for that. If anyone pretended to care about me at this moment, anyone, it would only hurt more. 

 

Dragging myself into the passenger seat, Peter leaned over and closed the door for me. His hand brushed along my chest, the slight action bringing me back slightly. The engine started and we began to journey back to the loft. I killed someone when I was trying to live. In all honesty, I don't want to die. I will do anything to live, or even just to feel like I am living. Blood will be spilt, I craved it. 

 

I cannot be saved by confession, I cannot reach to heaven with blood stained hands. This world I had been dragged into was kill or be killed. Scott didn't understand. He is a liability to me now. My hands started to still, Peter glancing at me as he drove. The drive back was silent.

 

 

The sun was starting to rise by thr time we arrived at the loft. Opening the door, Peter strolled past a very angry Derek. Derek sniffed the air and recoiled, eyes glazing over red. 

 

"What did you do?" Derek snarled, crossing the room into my personal space. 

 

What little calm I had found vanished, fear wracking through me. Reaching out for Derek with my hands, he took a step back. Relapsing back to that night in the rain Scott lost his trust in me, I let everything go. I unloaded my fears onto Derek.

 

"I couldn't let her breath because I didn't want to die." I told Derek, my eyes watering again. "But it is not alright."

 

"Stiles, you need to control yourself..."

 

"Shut the fuck up Derek! I am trying to be what you are dying to see!" I screamed at him, feeling that swirling mass swell in my chest. "I have been controlling myself for years Derek. Don't you fucking dare tell me I have no self control!"

 

Derek stood there, stunned. Peter had vanished, but I didn't care. Too long had I hidden from Derek, obscured by Scott.

 

"Am I just lost in your eyes? Do you even see me! Or do you only see Scott?" I demanded, shaking.

 

"I do see you Stiles. I do. And I see someone lost to power..."

 

"You never even tried to reel Scott in, so why are you acting like you care about me?" I demanded. "Is it because I am human? Is it because I am dead?"

 

"Believe it or not, I used to also feel inferior." Derek said calmly, stepping towards me.

 

"No. You never felt like this Derek. If you did, you would also be dead." I spat, tears tearing apart my skin. "It has always been easier for you, you've always been handsome."

 

"I realise your afraid, but you cannot destroy the whole world." Derek continued with his soft approach, wrapoing his arms around me.

 

"I know, but I can destroy Scott's"

 

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Derek held a shaking Stiles close, trying to steal his pain. At the first burst of what Stiles held deep, Derek was in agony. The pain of dying. Realising he couldn't sap Stiles physical pain, Derek was determined to stop his mental agony. 

 

Stiles was crying, admitting weakness and Derek found that endearing. Rubbing circles into Stiles back, Derek longed for more. For the intmacy sistuations like this normally presented. He longed for real love, not just someone using him. Stiles liked Derek, but Derek was not sure whether it was just lust. He knew he wouldn't last handing his worn out heart again without returned feelings.

 

Derek wanted Stiles heart and soul, but he knew they were already gone.


	10. Don't Break Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have a moment, but the plan prevails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am starting University in 18 days, so I am really nervous!!! This story will suffer from two factors.  
> 1 - My mental state and levels of not sleeping  
> 2 - University.  
> So yeah.

Sitting on my own bed, I was embarrassed by how I had acted. The sun had now risen, and my need to finish my plan. Derek appeared at my door, head hanging low. What was he ashamed of? Why hadn't he left my house yet? Gripping my bed sheets in humiliation, I smiled weakly. Derek sat beside me, his awkward movements cementing the fact that he didn't want to be here.

 

"Peter told me about, um, what you were doing at the club." Derek stated, refusing to look at me.

 

Thinking back, I remembered the buzz, the high and how well that strangers body fitted my own.

 

"What about it?" I asked quietly, uncomfortable with the development. 

 

"Why did you kiss a stranger?"

 

"Because no one else will." I told him honestly. "Sometimes people just want to be called beautiful, have someone say they love them even if it is a lie."

 

"Why a stranger?" Derek spoke with more authority and I groaned.

 

"I already explained that."

 

"You could have asked me." Derek went back to being awkward.

 

"Actually, I did. Outside Eichen." I snapped, aggravated by this pointless interrogation.

 

"You never gave me a chance to reply!" Derek shouted, standing.

 

"Because you would reject me." I flung back.

 

"No I wouldn't!"

 

Wait what? Derek...what? 

 

He sensed my shock and calmed considerably. 

 

"You kissed a stranger instead of me." Derek looked like a kicked puppy from his own words whilst my own evaded me.

 

"Ah, what?"

 

"Just...just don't break me." Derek said, caressing my face.

 

He did not give me time to reply, time to back down before he kissed me. It was missing the ferocity of the strangers, but held something tender instead. Bringing my hands up, I rested them awkwardly on his hips, my tattoos exploding under my skin. I had never felt this before. This was....love. Readily taking the role of the submissive, Derek trailed his tongue gently over my bottom lip.

 

Love.

 

He moved his hands knowing I wasn't going ro run. Instead, he wrapped them around me. The world faded as the kiss grew into something more. Breaking the kiss for air, Derek sat on the edge pf my bed, bringing me down to his hips. Straddling him awkwardly, I was relieved ti not have killed the mood. 

 

Love.

 

Derek took my lips with his once more, pressing his hands into my back. You don't have to say I love you when such fireworks existed. The markings sent pleasure throughout my body, telling me that this was right. Derek was perfect for me. It was as I thought that, Derek stopped. He pulled me gently from his lap and promptly rested his head in his hands.

 

Broken.

 

I wasn't good enough. Doubt tugged at my heart, clinging to each beat. I wasn't enough. Derek was mumbling apologies, lost to his own guilt ridden world. Drawing my knees to my chest, everythinf ached. 

 

"I shouldn't have done that." Derek mumbled like a mantra, each time driving a dagger deeper and deeper into my heart.

 

"Shut up Derek." My voice wavered, but I said it none the less. 

 

Derek didn't stop, so caught up in his own delusions to notice.

 

"Shut up Derek!" I shouted, and that finally got him. "Lets start with my plan of taking down Scott."

 

"You are still doing that?"

 

"He is the reason why I am the walking dead." I rolled my eyes, planning how to do part one. 

 

Derek distracted me by grazing his fingers over my cheek, resting painfully.

 

"How did you get this? It looks bad." Derek stated and a light bukb exploded in my mind.

 

"That js it! Thank you Vampire, our fight was not pointless." I cheered, fumbling around for shoes. 

 

I would go to the hospital to get this cut examined, and whilst I am there, I will drop not so subtle hints to Liam's step dad that he is spending a lot of time with Scott. Maybe insinuate that the changes in Liam's behaviour could be an enhancement Scott gave him. Liam was not yet brave enough to tell his dad about the supernatural, so this plan should work. And explaining the supernatural to an angry parent is a sure way to prove you are insane. Liam's relationship with his father will be at risk if he spends time with Scott. If he still chooses Scott, I will be the voice in his conscious pushing him back to his father. I will get fully involved if I have to.

 

Derek grabbed my wrist, concern clear on his face.

 

"What are you doing?" He asked and I grinned.

 

"I am about to break Liam."

 

"Stiles, we really shouldn't do this." Derek said calmly, and that aggravated me.

 

"We don't have to, but I will." I stated, crossing my arms.

 

We may have just had a moment, a show of weakness, but I was not deterred from my goal.

 

"I think you shouldn't do this then." Derek smirked slightly, and I gave him my best 'eat shit' grin.

 

"I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me." I quoted Fall Out Boy, adding a flare of acting to show I didn't care at all.

 

"You are serious?"

 

"I fucking jumped of a waterfall and died because of Scott and his pack of groupie bitches, so yeah, I am serious." I dead panned, staring straight at Derek.

 

Derek looked upset, but I couldn't care. We may react well, but our wavelengths were different. As I placed my hand on the door knob, Derek spoke.

 

"Please stop saying you are dead. Please stop acting like you aren't going to fix that." Derek pleaded.

 

I was done with being weak today, so I refused to tear up.

 

"I was dead long before I killed myself." I mumbled, leaving my room.

 

He could show himself out. In life, I had only wanted happiness. I wanted purity, something to cling to when life grows dark. All I got was the broken remains of what could have been. I would have died for Scott, I almost died for him. It hurt, each day I was with him was painful. A human can never safely run with wolves. Scott had instantly taken a liking to Theo and left me. Derek had fallen in love with a serial killer, twice. Did no one want me because I was...too nice? Did I seem like a reliable back up plan?

 

Too long have I been nice. Now everyone will see me, not through me. Liam will break first, or Lydia will. I wonder what happens to a Banshee near a massacre? Maybe I should try it? 

 

Outside of my house, I realised once again that my Jeep was missing. Now I have to call a cab, or walk. Derek called my name, and I turned to look at him. He held up his keys helplessly and I sighed.

 

It was better than walking.

 

/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

 

Stiles followed Derek into his car, and that calmed him slightly. Derek was ashaned of having taken advantage of Stiles. Stiles was hurt, and Derek took advantage. Stiles was hurt because of Scott.

 

Scott was the root of the problem.

 

As much as Derek hated to admit it, Stiles revenge was necessary. How many more people will Scott destroy with his incompetence? Someone had to rip the weed out before it spread. Driving towards the hospotal, Derek wondered about the cut on Stiles cheek. If it happened hours ago, shouldn’t some form of healing process started? Or was this a side effect?

 

Stiles body was dead, so how could it heal?

 

Derek wanted to kill Scott.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is my first Teen Wolf fanfic. So if it sucks, I shall blame that. If you notice anything wrong, just cyber bitch slap me and I will fix it.   
> ^-^


End file.
